Taming the Tiger
by Morna
Summary: Ganondorf Dragmire has been taken as a prisoner of war by the Queen Zelda. Uncertain of what to do with her captive, they strike a bargain that leads to unexpected and surprising results. AU Zelda. GanondorfxZelda
1. Chapter 1

Taming the Tiger

**This is an extremely AU ZxG one-shot. It has no particular place in the timeline. Here is a brief background of what has been going on Ganondorf and his army have been defeated along the Zora River by Queen Zelda and her leading general Link. Ganondorf is currently being paraded through the streets of Hyrule Castle Town as a prisoner of war.**

Ganondorf recalled a distant memory of his teenage years as he was led through the streets of Hyrule Castle Town in chains.

_He loped through the thick jungle of the oasis, a spear gripped in his hands and a dagger at his hip. His eyes scanned the vegetation around him, searching for signs of movement. There were none. He continued on his way, stepping over a fallen log and onto the carpet of rotting leaves on the other side. In a moment of uncharacteristic of self indulgence he allowed himself to be caught up in the rough beauty of his surroundings. The leaves and vines glowed hard and bright like jade and emerald under the harsh Gerudo sun. Flowers both lovely and poisonous bloomed from bushes and shrubs, glistening with drops from the last rain fall. All around him there was life. No. He corrected himself. All around there was death __**disguised**__ as life. For all that this place appeared tranquil and inviting with the cool water and shade it offered, it was the desert's most deceptive trap. This is where she harbored all her most vicious and cunning creatures. It was tempting to give into the sound of trickling water and thick, balmy air but passing stupid as well. _

_He pulled himself out of his stupor and tightened his grip on the spear. He was here to prove himself a worthy king to his people not get caught up in a daydream. He took a step forward and stopped when he heard something rustle to his left. Slowly he turned his head as his heart hammered in his chest. He squinted his eyes to make out the shape crouched in the dappled light of the forest. The blood in his veins turned to ice. Muscles rippled under a coat of orange fur striped black and a pair of cold, amber eyes studied him from the shadows cast by ferns carpeting the ground._

_He swallowed and willed himself to stay put. The moment he ran the tiger would spring from its place of hiding and pursue him. A heart beat passed and then he breathed. The predator remained as still as a dark, quiet pool. He knew he should look away. To meet the beast's gaze directly was to challenge it. He found he could not. There was something sacred and almost divine in the moment. It was a fragile second between life and death._

_It studied him for a moment before standing up from its crouch. His heart seized in his chest, certain that it was about to spring. The animal's gaze lingered on him for an instant before it turned and stalked off into the foliage. He had been spared for no visible reason. The jungle had let him live another day. He continued with his hunt._

_When he returned to the fortress he told the tale of the tiger to the warriors and they laughed. From then on they mockingly addressed him as the Prince of Tigers. The nickname stuck._

Petals rained down on his head from high windows and balconies as the Hylian women celebrated the homecoming of their husbands and sons. He could hear them singing compliments and praises in their high and grating voices. His eyes narrowed as he watched gold dangle from their small wrists and rubies shine at the hollows of their throats. These were riches that he thought should have belonged to the people of his tribe. After all, was the skin of the Gerudo not hammered from gold by Din herself and was their hair not spun from rubies and flames like his myths told him? Who were these Hylians to keep it to themselves? Who were they to harbor such wealth?

He hunched his shoulders and marched on as he had been taught to do all his life. This was another trial to endure and pass. The chains at his wrists jangled as a horse rammed into his side. He stumbled, righted himself, and glared at the Hylian Knight who was only a few inches above him even mounted. The man cursed at him and flicked his reins to continue prancing onward through the broad avenues. This one event set the tone for the rest of the short journey to Hyrule Castle. Ganondorf was jostled, pushed, and shoved as he was marched and paraded through the city that he had once sought to conquer.

He was seething by the time they reached the main gates of the castle. His fingers itched to draw on the magic that was no longer available to him. The last battle had stripped him of the power that he once wielded with such fury. He thought of attacking them physically. He could probably break through the guard of the knights surrounding him and make a decent run for it even chained; but not even a man of his build would be able to break through the small army that would hunt him once he was on the loose. He set aside his anger for the time, walking with heavy steps to the huge doors of Hyrule Castle.

Servants pulled the enormous set of doors open wide to admit the homecoming of the Hylian army and its prized captive. The arches of the vaulted ceiling yawned over his head as he entered, and he thought he felt eyes peering down on him, burning into his back and between his shoulder blades.

The foot soldiers and lower knights remained outside the doors, leaving only Ganondorf, his guard, and the ranking officers of the army to enter. Zelda was seated in her throne at the far end of the hall. She was both beautiful and terrible. The Queen of Hyrule hung like a star in the sky between her dais of white marble and the effigies of the three goddesses swirling above her head. She was almost ethereal.

The knights shuffled nervously amongst themselves in her presence before picking a handful of unfortunate men to escort Ganondorf down the hall to her. The procession was a slow and noisy affair as the knights' armor clanked with the effort of trying to maintain a tight perimeter around him while they attempted to simultaneously lead him to their queen. They stopped three quarters of the way down the hall and all fell to one knee in unison. He remained standing in the center of them. He could see their scowls from out of the corner of his eye. An armored arm was snaking towards his knees when she spoke.

"Bring him closer," she commanded

The knights lifted their heads as one and stared at her in surprise. "But Your Majesty," one with a mustache said.

"Bring him closer," she repeated.

The six knights surrounding him exchanged hesitant glances but did as Zelda bid. When they stopped again he was still well out of arm's reach of her but he could make out her features better. He had never seen the Hylian monarch up close, only at a distance from across a great hall or more recently a battlefield.

They silently assessed each other for a moment, weighing and measuring the strengths and weaknesses of the other. He could not tell what she thought of him behind her carefully guarded expression, but he found her surprising. Oh yes, she was beautiful like he'd always heard, there was no doubt of that. Still, she was not like how he had pictured her. He had imagined some delicate girl made of lace and glass, beautiful but insubstantial and fleeting. He had expected her to be more of a figure head who left the running of her kingdom to her council than a true ruler. It seemed the Hylians were full of surprises including their queen.

The quiet battle ended when her lips twisted into a wry smile. Her hair fell in a golden curtain over her shoulders as she tilted her head to the side in thought. "So this is him?" she said. "This is Ganondorf Dragmire, known by some as Mandrag Ganon, and the Scourge of Hyrule."

"What were you expecting, Milady?" he asked. He heard the creak of armor as the guards at his sides stirred in agitation. He would have to be careful or they might end him here.

She arched an eyebrow at the question. "More than what I see before me," she replied coolly.

"I was once more than what I am now. You sought to that," he spat back.

The knights rose to their feet.

Queen Zelda raised her hand and stood. Slowly, she walked off of the dais, mindful of the skirts that rustled at her ankles. The hall was shrouded in silence except for the swish of silk as she walked towards him. Her heels clicked on the marble floor. She was taller than he'd thought. Her shoulders were set and her eyes vaguely amused.

She stopped when she stood almost nose to nose with him. He could have reached out to caress her cheek or break her neck. In a moment, he could have had the most powerful woman in the world in his grasp and Hyrule at his mercy. Something in her gaze stopped him.

"You speak boldly," she said as she inclined her head to look him in the eyes.

"The same could be said for you, Zelda," he stated, his voice rolling through the room.

Her face pinched at his words. She took a step back, and he oddly felt the distance between them like he had not expected to.

Her hands smoothed the white fabric of her dress. "You will address me as Your Majesty. We are hardly on a first name basis, Lord Ganondorf."

He could feel a storm brewing around him. It set his nerves on fire. He had let his tongue run away with him again.

"Take him to the dungeon. Have armed guards placed around him. Go now." She spun on her heel and returned to her throne, her posture stiff and regal. She had returned to her distant star. She was the immaculate goddess once more.

Ganondorf awoke to the sound of a tray being slid through the small slit in the door. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the slop. He grabbed the rind of bread off of it and kicked the rest of it into a corner with his heel as he had done for the past two weeks.

* * *

He wolfed it down greedily, leaving not even crumbs as he sucked the last taste of it off of his thumb. His stomach growled in protest, but he bit his cheek against the hunger. He was a king, and he would not stoop to eat trash off of a pewter tray like some animal.

His day passed uneventfully while he listened to the guards gossip and mutter to each other as they changed shifts. He thought and schemed. He could come up with nothing and as had become habit for him lately, he went to sleep hungry and tired.

Torchlight pried his reluctant eyelids apart as the door to his cell opened. He squinted in the flood of light, raising a hand to his brow to shade his eyes. He made out a silhouette. The queen had arrived.

She took a step into the small room, leaving her guards at the door. Her hands were folded as she looked up to survey the ceiling. She turned to the corner where his pile of rotting food sat.

"Not to your taste?" She came closer to him, gesturing for him to stand.

He got to his feet if only to loom over her, trying to use his height to intimidate her. "I do not eat pig slop."

"Would you prefer chicken feed? Or perhaps some oats?" She motioned carelessly to the empty pan.

"I would prefer something fit for someone of my station."

She grinned at him wickedly. "So you mean for a disgraced monarch who is currently held captive? I believe it is."

"Were our positions reversed, _Queen _Zelda, I can assure you I would show you much more courtesy."

"They are not so that is only a theory, and I do not deal with theories, _Lord_ Ganondorf. I deal with reality. I suggest you start doing the same."

She turned to walk out and with her perhaps his one chance to free himself of this hell hole. He lunged at her exposed back. She made no noise as one arm came across her shoulders and his free hand to her delicate throat. The guards swarmed into the tiny room. He scrambled further back, not quite against the wall.

"Stay back or I'll break her pretty little neck like a doll's."

The guards hesitated for a moment.

"And then what?" Zelda replied drolly. "You'll kill your only tool for bargaining and be slain on the spot. Really, I'd heard you were more intelligent than that."

He gnashed his teeth together in frustration. This queen, this woman was maddening if only because she was right.

"Either way," he said, his breath hot against her ear as he craned his head down towards her, "you will be dead, and I will have killed Hyrule's greatest treasure."

She laughed. "Am I really worth so much to you? I think you overestimate my value. You would risk your very life for more comfortable quarters and better food?"

"I would trade my life for my dignity any day," he growled. "The same cannot be said for you."

He could feel something give in her while he pressed her flush against his body. He had hit a nerve. It seemed she had a prickly streak of pride. He could use that against her.

"It is said," he continued, "you can tell the true measure of a monarch by how their prisoners are treated. Fair and just or cruel and petty. The choice is yours, Highness."

She cleared her throat. "Fine. I can respect a man of ambition and . . . dignity. Let me go, and you'll have your room and food."

"Swear it."

"You have my word," she stated reluctantly.

"I need something more solid than your word."

"You have it on my father's blood which is stained on your hands. You have on it on my crown. Satisfied?"

"It will do," he purred into her ear. He shoved her forward roughly.

She stumbled but righted herself by placing a gloved hand on the wall. The knights rushed forward. With a hand, she halted them. "I gave him my word, and a Hylian never goes back on her word, unlike some people I could name. Besides, he may yet prove useful."

"But Your Majesty," one of the fools started.

"Show him to his new rooms and give him a meal befitting a man of his tastes," she snapped before stepping out of the doorway.

* * *

Ganondorf was sopping up the last of his soup with a slice of bread when the door to his small parlor opened. It was Zelda again. He couldn't decipher the woman. She insisted on stopping by randomly to check in on him. There was never a particular reason for her visits, she would simply float by, make some snide comment, and then leave.

This time was different though, this time she was by herself and out of her usual royal gown. The small crown and starched silk and linen dress were gone. In their place were a much simpler circlet and a dress of blue wool. She almost looked approachable, and for a moment, he imagined her out wandering around the marketplace.

She took a seat on the couch across from him without asking. Without words, he offered her a cup of wine.

She accepted and held it underneath her nose for a moment.

"Afraid I poisoned it?" He asked chuckling.

"Yes," she answered frankly.

"And where would I get it?"

"You Gerudo are crafty. I'm sure you have your ways." She drank deeply of the goblet in what he took to be a show of bravery. She drained it; then slammed the chalice down on the table.

He raised an eyebrow at her display and sipped his slowly. They considered each other for a moment like fighters sizing up their opponent before a battle. He dropped his eyes first. She reclined against the couch triumphantly, throwing her arms over the back.

She was toying with him. A girl a decade or more younger was besting him in a game of wits and intimidation. He had stood down warriors and monsters and her damn army but not her. Fine then, he could play her games. He would unhorse her.

"Tell me of the boy," he said casually.

"What boy?"

"The one who defeated me. The one who led your armies and carries the Triforce of Courage. Tell me about him."

Her face went blank for a moment, calculating. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I just do," he said innocently.

"I don't believe you. There's got to be some kind of motive behind it."

He smiled. "There isn't."

She narrowed her eyes, then put one leg over the other, clasping her hands around her knee. "He's my general. He fought my war for me, but it was with my strategies. He's a brilliant leader. People respect him, follow him naturally. He's also very good at spur of the moment military tactics. Those are his gifts. Anything else you would like to know? His weaknesses, his downfalls?"

Ganondorf shook his head in amusement. "No, that will do."

"Good," she said but her tone didn't reflect it. She seemed unsure at the moment, no doubt wondering what plot it was he was cooking up.

"You're very brave," he said conversationally. "I could easily kill you right now without your guards to protect you."

"And you would be very stupid to do so," she replied without faltering, her features cold and fixed. "Besides Ganondorf, you assume that it is not within my power to kill you without the means of a hangman's noose. After all, out of the two of us, it is you who lost your piece of the Triforce."

He spread his hands helplessly in a show of surrender and physical strength. All of the magic in the world wouldn't help her if he choked the life from her first. Oddly, even though the opportunity was present, it was not tempting. He should want to hurt this woman any way possible. He should welcome death after his defeat and ultimate disgrace as his people had taught him. He didn't. He wanted to live. It was what he did best.

"So why keep me alive then?"

She eyed his hands, violet eyes roving over the calluses and old scars that showed white against his dark skin. "I meant what I said in the dungeon. I do respect men of ambition and dignity, even if I am more certain of your ambition than your dignity. You are simply worth more to me alive than dead as both a political bargaining tool and a source of information."

"Am I really considering that I am your father's murderer?"

She smiled ruefully at his question. "Yes, there is that. I suppose a thank you is in order."

His mind and face went simultaneously blank at her statement. He cleared his throat and schooled his features carefully before continuing with the conversation. "I don't believe I understand."

She laughed, high and bright and cruel. It hung in the air for a moment like a bell before its echo faded. "Really, if you know anything about my father and mine's relationship it shouldn't come as a surprise. He'd suffered through three still births, all boys, before me. Then I'm born, the first child with his despised second wife, and I'm perfectly healthy. He gets my mother with child twice more, both of which result in miscarriages. He made no attempt to hide the fact that he wished he had a son from anyone, myself included. He blamed the deaths of what would have been my brother and sister on me, saying I was a witch because my mother was half Sheikah. He had no intention of making me his heir. Rumor has it he planned on naming a third cousin as his heir, but then his sudden death left no other option but me. So in a way, you're responsible for putting me on the throne. Ironic, isn't it?"

He silently soaked up the information, storing it away for a later time. He could see no prospective use for the knowledge currently, but one never knew. He had always known that the structure of Hylian society greatly differed from his own, and it was often murmured over tankards and behind hands that the King and Princess's relationship was less than ideal. Still, he had never imagined this level of discord amongst the two. He had certainly not expected her to benefit and even rejoice at her father's death. He saw a piece of himself reflected then in the dark mirrors of her eyes. She was not some soft hearted maiden. She was as hard and beautiful as diamond.

He nodded in agreement with her statement. Yes, many things in his life could be described as ironic. "So you did not grieve for him?"

She inclined her head towards him, leaning forward on her elbows. "He was no more a father to me than he was a husband to my mother."

* * *

Days passed without her presence. Ganondorf ate and slept as he pleased, listening to the guards outside of his door, looking for any weaknesses he might find in the Queen's security. He came across a few small ones that he might exploit, but with his current lack of power, his chances of making a successful escape were slim to none.

He was growing irritable over his inability to act. He should have had at least some kind of rudimentary plan by now, but his mind was blank and empty of ideas. He paced restlessly when he was not sitting to eat or asleep. The dense, stone walls were starting to agitate him. His entire life had been either outside in the wide range of the desert, the airy Gerudo fortress, or makeshift tents when his sisters took him on raids. He was not accustomed to living in such a confined space for weeks on end. His room had one high, narrow window through which sunlight and a faint breeze entered, and only one door that was barred and locked from the outside. He found himself wishing that she would stop by to mock him if only to break the monotony of it.

As more time passed, he could feel a pressure building within the entire castle. Everyone seemed on edge and nervous. The castle buzzed like a hive full of frustrated bees. One didn't have to be particularly bright to link the tense atmosphere and Zelda's recent absence. So it was with mingled feelings of eager curiosity and dread that he accompanied a small retinue of guards to her solar.

When they reached the door one stupidly brave knight knocked loudly. Ganondorf could hear a fluttering of papers and the scraping of a chair before Zelda's curt reply came.

"Send him in. Him alone."

They paused a moment but as always obeyed her wishes. The blindfold around his eyes fell away, but the shackles remained as they him shoved into her rooms.

White sunlight washed in through the open glass doors in front of him. He squinted against the brightness of it. Through the arch of stone he could see a balcony and the bright green fronds of exotic potted plants. The sky was a hard blue canopy, and he relished the site more than he thought he ever would. Zelda was reclining on a white leather chaise with a thick wad of parchment in the flood of sunbeams. The light bleached her dress of any color. Her hair flared gold, and her eyes became hooded dark purple shadows as she cast them downward to look over the cramped handwriting in front of her. He stood where he was out of uncertainty of what to do and the unwanted desire to stare at her. He had seen beautiful women before and bedded quite a few of them, but she was something different. It was the least of her gifts. She would have been remarkable without it, but somehow beauty became her.

Finally, she looked up from her papers and gave him a stern glance. "Sit," she commanded, returning her eyes to her documents.

"Really, Princess Zelda, I would think you would have no shortage of royal hounds at your command. Why do you feel compelled to treat me as one?" he sneered, the moment of wonder broken.

She muttered and shuffled her papers around before finding a scroll and unrolling it on the table in front of her.

A detailed map of Hyrule's western border stretched out before his eyes. He frowned as he noticed the little x's on numerous Gerudo villages, various passes through the mountains, and hidden bridges that crossed the Zora.

"I have some very important business to discuss with you. It does pertain directly to you. So please, if you would, have a seat."

His chains rattled as he shuffled over to the settee on the other side of the table opposite the queen. "Alright then, if it's so important then let's get on with it. After all, I have a very busy schedule ahead of me, being a prisoner and all."

"The council and I have been wondering what to do with you. I can't keep you as a political prisoner forever. At least, not in your current quarters. They wouldn't allow that. It is time for you to prove your usefulness. As you can see, this is a map of the border shared by Hyrule and the Gerudo Desert. Despite, having defeated your army there are still skirmishes and raids ongoing. I believe someone among your people is trying to make a second stand with the scattered remains of your military."

She looked up at him expectantly.

"And?"

Her expression grew chilly. "_And_, I need your advice as to what known hideouts they would be at. How big do you think the army is? What would their strategies be?"

He shrugged and rested against the back of the couch, letting his hands dangle between his knees carelessly. "I haven't been there for weeks, possibly months. Who am I to know the comings and goings of this new army?" He spread his hands helplessly.

"Don't play me false, Dragmire. You know damn well where they would go and what they would do. You probably also know who this is. Now I'm allowing you the choice of giving me this information freely. Do not make me regret it."

He made sure to keep his face still as her words flowed around him. He knew exactly what places they were retreating to and what tactics they were using, and he had a fairly certain idea of who was behind it.

"No," he answered simply.

Her lip twitched and her fingers curled as if she might strike him. Instead, she leaned back and lifted her chin. "You do realize that now you are no longer king even to them. I've read enough about your people to know that power is something not given over willingly. A new leader has stepped forward, and they follow her now. Even if I were to release you into their care they would treat you as an outcast, a defeated, humiliated prince. "

"Am I anymore than that here?" he responded.

"No, but at least here your safety is insured. You would be lucky to escape with your life among the Gerudo for the disgrace you brought upon them."

He fought to keep his expression placid. Her words cut deeply because they were true. The Gerudo were many things but forgiving was not one of them. His pride and greed had driven them to a great defeat. They would never forget that or allow him to.

"Some things are worth the risk."

She let out a heavy breath through her nose. "You know you're not saving them. If you give me the necessary information I can make this quick and merciful. I can find this new leader and end it before this gets out of hand. Do you think your people can survive another war like the last? Because I certainly don't."

"I think the more important question to you is can your rein withstand one."

"So it is, but I think you will agree that another war is not what either one of us wants."

He shook his head. "No, it is not, but I will not speak against my people."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "A surprising streak of nobility for someone like you, a man who modeled himself as the Dark Lord, the King of Thieves. Remind me why is it again that I choose to allow your head to remain attached to your neck?" Her tone was vicious, sly and sharp as a blade.

He made no reply as she stood and began to pace. She cradled her chin in her hand as she stalked the marble floor of her solar. Her eyebrows were knit together in fury as she cut glances at him out of the corner of her eye. "Do you understand that the reason why I let you live is for information? That is how I was able to convince my council to spare you from the executioner's axe. Do you know they wanted me to mount your head on a spike on the castle walls and send your body back in pieces to your sisters?"

He thought on her words. They did not surprise him. He had imagined that her advisors would have told her to be rid of him as soon as possible. They were probably pressuring her to come to some kind of resolution; preferably, one that ended with him dead. Despite that though, he knew that there had to be something else troubling her. Zelda was a confident woman, but she was not stupid. She would have guessed that he would not talk. No, there was something else at work here. Another obstacle was causing the normally implacable Queen of Hyrule to lose her composure.

"That's not why you're angry," he said diplomatically, his chains jingling as he stirred slightly.

"What?" She whirled on him, her expression livid. He could see the power from her piece of the Triforce shining through her eyes. His own absence of power ached within him. He could feel the void where it had been not so long ago. He wondered for a moment if he could steal hers and transfer it to himself. He still had some of his own given magic left. It might just be enough . . .

Then she turned away from him and the thought was gone. Her shoulders were hunched, and she held her chin in her hand in deep thought. No, despite her vulnerability and temptation, for some reason he could not bring himself to attempt something like that. It seemed wrong somehow. He supposed for the same reason that he could not bring himself to go through with his threats. It reminded him of the way his people would never kill one of the rare desert dragons that roamed their home. It was dangerous and they envied its power, but they would never harm it. Something like that should never be lost.

"That's not the real reason why you're so angry. There is another reason. This problem has been present for quite sometime. You knew how this would play out."

She let his words weigh like stones in the air, and he knew he had found his mark.

"And what if there is?" she said defeatedly, returning to her seat opposite him. "Nothing can be done for it." She pressed her longer fingers to her right temple.

"Perhaps I may be of help in other ways," he offered. It was a long shot, but if it kept him from death for a little longer he would seize it. Besides, if he could gain her trust and some information it might just be enough to form some kind of coherent plan.

"Really now? Since when did the defeated advise the victorious? That seems a bit contradictory."

He suppressed a growl and a bitter retort. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees as far as his chains would allow. He trapped her eyes with his. "You may have defeated me on the battlefield, Majesty, but I am still your elder. I have ruled longer than you, and I've picked up a few tricks along the way. You want information. I can give it to you, just not the kind you originally expected."

Her hand dropped away. He could tell that she was considering it. He knew a little about the Triforce of Wisdom and knew that its bearer was naturally curious and thirsty for knowledge. He waited for her decision.

"How do I know that you won't use this against me at a later time?"

"If you have no intention of setting me free then I don't see as how I could. I'm a foreign, disgraced king. I see no one besides you."

Her jaw tightened before she nodded. "Alright then. I have been offered a proposal for marriage from the King of Holodrum." She stopped and eased out a breath.

He frowned and folded his hands together. "And?" he prompted.

"And I do not wish to marry him."

"Then tell him no," he replied simply.

She let out an exhausted laugh. "It is not that easy. The council is pressuring me into it. They think I am not fit to be a ruler, and Hyrule is so weak right now. I do not know if we can afford to make an enemy of any country."

"I take it that the King of Holodrum does not take rejection well?"

She let out a gust of air and laughed. "That's an understatement. He's known for his moods and his paranoia. The man had an entire family slaughtered because he suspected one of them of treason."

The furrow between the Gerudo's eyes deepened. "I can see why this would trouble you so much. He does not sound like suitable material for marriage."

"Yes," she answered softly before turning her attention to the green view of her windows.

He leaned back against the sofa and thought. One by one he ticked off the possibilities in his mind, each one with a grimmer outcome than the next. "There are three choices, only two of which I think you would seriously consider. The first one is to marry him."

She scowled at him.

"That's what I thought," he said smoothly. "The first alternative choice is to be honest about it and tell him, which could lead to a war that may or may not be winnable. The second is to make a game of it."

Queen Zelda snorted through her nose at his statement. "And what kind of game would you suggest? Maybe I should play him for the fate of my kingdom over a game of chess or hide and go seek."

The disgraced king shook his head and held out a hand in entreaty. "Hear me out before you dismiss my ideas. I grew up in a society of women. I saw the way the courting game was played. You are a woman of great power--and might I add great beauty--you have the opportunity to gain the upper hand here."

The incredulous expression on her face slowly faded to one of thoughtfulness. She seemed to have completely ignored the compliment he'd hidden between the words. It irked him mildly though he couldn't quite say why.

"Go on," she almost whispered as if afraid someone might over hear them.

He cleared his throat. "Make him believe that you are genuinely interested in his proposition. Allow him to feel like he has an honest chance. Allow yourself to charm him and be charmed in return. It will keep him at bay for a little while at least."

"In other words, lead him on," she replied bluntly.

He sighed and nodded his head. "For lack of better terms, yes. It is your best option, and the only one truly available with your current resources."

She paused again, her blond eyebrows knitting together. Then slowly her face smoothed out into its normal serenity. She was once again unflappable and immovable. "You really think this would work? You think he would be stupid enough to honestly think I would have any real interest in him?"

Ganondorf gave a sad smile of secret knowledge that all men shared. "It is not what he thinks that matters, it is what he wants. If he wants you for his wife then he will not see through your ruse."

She stood and turned her back to him. She clasped her gloved hands behind her back and let the light flood around her form. It cut sharp beams across her crown and shoulders and darkened her hair to the color of rich honey. She seemed to move and waver in the falling light of the sun. He thought that she seemed to dissolve into it at the seams of herself.

"How would I go about this? You must understand Lord Ganondorf that my education encompassed many areas but left little time for me to engage in flirtatious exchanges. I'm not learned in the ways of a coquette."

"Then I shall teach you," he said with a smirk on his face.

**There you have the first piece of Ganondorf and Zelda goop that I've published in a while. This will be a short fanfic with another part hopefully coming in about a week. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. I am pleased with the results but then again I'm biased.**


	2. Chapter 2

Taming the Tiger

Chapter 2

**First off, let me apologize for the incredibly long wait on this. I just hit a big roadblock with this story. I didn't know where to go with it or what to do next without seeming repetitive. I wrote and rewrote, and I'm still not fully happy with the results. Still, I knew I had to get this up even if it means taking it down and revising it later. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it. The Legend of Zelda is not mine. There I said it.**

Over the next few nights, he slept fitfully and dreamed of her. They were always half forgotten and vague. They were phantoms in the small hours of the day with no real substance or resolution, a bit like the woman who occupied them. Sometimes he ran after her through a black garden, only catching a fleeting glimpse of the hem of her dress. Other times she was a statue in front of him that the moment he touched her cracked and crumbled beneath his fingers. He thought back on his sisters and aunts' teachings on the meaning of dreams and found no solace in the lessons. He would take the bones from his latest meal and throw them on the fire to see how they cracked. He could make nothing of their lines and fractures. And for some reason, it frightened him that the dreams held no deeper meaning than what might lurk in his heart.

She came in the evenings after her meetings with the Council and often with pressing news of the King of Holodrum's proposal. He could tell from the lines that knit her brows together and the crinkles of her lids that it troubled her. The information combined with ominous tidings of his dreams stirred unease in his dark heart. He could not place why though. His lessons and instincts told him that he should be concerned, that he should take delight in her discomfort. He could very well be witnessing the fall of Hyrule before his very eyes, have a hand in his enemy's undoing, but he could find no joy in it. Instead of contemplating these things, he turned his mind to the task at hand. He had promised her he would teach her the subtle arts of flirting and he intended to do so.

"Lower your eyelids," he instructed, his voice even and patient as she sat across the table from him. "No, too low. You look like you're falling asleep. You must seem interested in what I'm saying."

"I am," she labored a sigh. "However, how exactly should I lower my lids without seeming to fall asleep all the while seeming interested?"

He thought on how to explain it to her. This was something that was learned naturally without thorough explanation like learning to walk. You simply guided the child along and she followed suit. He had assumed this would be the same. "Imagine you're trying to look at something without being noticed, out of the corner of your eye."

She squinted at him.

He stopped a laugh. He knew her sense of pride was tender when it came to things like this. The less he laughed at her the more cooperative she would be. "Alright," he breathed, "pretend that I'm a man you find comely. You want to look at me, but you don't want me to know it."

He watched the delicate skin of her lids flutter for a moment as she imagined the scenario in her head. Then they dropped until only a slit of her eyes could be seen. He watched her irises warm to the color of dark amethysts.

"How is this?" she asked, her expression never wavering from the come-hither look she had achieved.

"Perfect," he murmured over his knuckles, finding himself unexpectedly caught in her gaze. For a heart beat, he falsely believed it was him she was interested in.

"Good," she said with relief, shattering the mood. Her face relaxed into its previous troubled expression.

They continued on for some time that evening discussing what topics to approach and to avoid. Matters of state were off limits while hobbies and activities were too be talked about in detail.

"But make sure you try and steer the conversation back towards him. Men of power like to discuss themselves above all else," Ganondorf stated sincerely.

"I'm sure you're well acquainted with that," Zelda teased as she stood to leave.

"Till our next lesson then," he said with a false bow.

She smiled in a way that warmed him and left the room.

The weeks passed and he continued to instruct her in the ways of courting. He taught her how to purse her lips in a way that suggested a kiss without actually leading to one. He watched her with growing fascination come into the woman she had never been. He found his fingers lingering on her cheek, brushing errant strands of hair out of her face. The whole time he convinced himself that she was just a student and he just a teacher. He was only trying to prevent another man from capturing the prize he himself had been trying to reach for. No one would take the sweetness of Hyrule's fall from his lips. No man would taste that wine but him.

"What do you know of dancing?" Ganondorf asked as he eyed his student across the table while sipping at his wine.

She shrugged carelessly, eyebrows raised as she looked at him over the rim of her chalice. "Enough to get me by at a ball or banquet. I'll admit I'm no prodigy, but I manage."

He nodded having expected as much. The king had not groomed her as his heir so he had not seen much use in providing her with a well rounded education. The outcast Gerudo eyed her rigid back and braced shoulders. There was potential there. He could see it in the sway of her step as she moved across a room, the way her feet always glided and never shuffled. She had a natural fluidity to her movements that was chained by her own restrained sense of pride. He would have to break her of that. He would have to show her that her own fear was her greatest enemy

The disgraced king stood and offered her his hand. Her eyes scanned the appendage for a moment before she looked up at him beneath the veil of her lashes. "You expect me to dance with you?" She asked, voice incredulous and bordering on nervous laughter.

"I am your teacher. This is one of your lessons."

"But why?" She rested her chin elegantly against one knuckle, cocking her head to the side.

"That is part of the lesson as well."

She considered him for a moment before accepting his hand. He felt the smooth pads of her long fingers brush against the calluses of his palm. He could tell where the lines on the front of her hand separated and braided together like rivers, and he began to read their patterns without a thought. His hand slipped over and onto hers like a glove as he pulled her gently to her feet. Hers fit so easily into his own, and it reminded him of the first time he'd held the reins of a horse or gripped the wood of his bow. It felt good and natural like the first drink of rain water after the long dry season. The revelation stunned and frightened him that he should find something so menial and unexpected so pleasant. Yet did not the Desert rejoice when her lover the Storm rolled back over her to cover her in his darkness despite their great differences.

The Queen of Hyrule stood before the former Gerudo King with arms akimbo and her hand resting uneasily in his. His free hand rested lightly on her hip, his touch hesitant and nervous. He could feel beneath his fingers the muscles of her lower back grow as taut as the strings of a sitar.

"Relax," he ordered as he stepped into the circle of her arms.

She forced herself not to take a step back. He moved her available hand to his shoulder and started the lesson.

"Your carriage is too stiff," he reprimanded as he forced her to drop her elbow.

"And you're too tall," she replied, her face crinkling into a mask of displeasure.

He growled. "My height cannot be accounted for. Your terrible posture can."

He thought she would sulk before she lowered her shoulders and allowed herself to lean into his hold.

"Good," he crooned as they started to move again to the pace he set.

He nodded the beats out, trying to get her to feel the rhythm in time with the movements. It had seemed impossible at first. She had moved her feet awkwardly, trying to keep what she thought a respectable distance between them and frequently stepping on his booted toes.

He'd had to bite his tongue numerous times to keep from cursing her for her clumsiness. Ganondorf had never been a patient instructor, and this pupil in particular infuriated him. Now, he could tell a slight difference in her. She seemed more at ease around him, seemed to almost be enjoying it. She had found a niche of comfort in this contact with him at last.

He stopped a smile from flitting across his face. He imagined trying to teach her a Gerudo dance. It would have affronted every sense of propriety she had. He could hardly think of the regal and unbending queen of the Hylians putting on a skirt made of silk scarves and whirling around in the wild circles that marked Gerudo dances. At times, he thought of her as a corpse, pale and bloodless, but her body was surprisingly warm to his touch. It seemed even this woman had a heart in her that pumped blood as red as his.

After some time, he became satisfied enough with her progress to allow them to sit down at the small table. She lowered herself smoothly into the chair opposite his and took a slice of cheese from a platter near her left wrist. "I still do not see what the purpose in that lesson was other than to point out my shortcomings."

"Dance is important in any culture," he remarked, drumming his fingers on the table, thinking of a better way to express what he was trying to say to her. "It has its own meanings and nuisances. It uses its own language."

She stopped mid bite, lips quirking into a smug grin. "Really and what language would that be?" she asked, lowering the piece of food back onto the dish.

"Touch," he whispered as he leaned across the table towards his pupil, "is a very important language. It can convey things that words leave out. Things that we are too afraid to say."

"I see," she murmured back to him as he placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

"You see my hand," he said as he moved from her shoulder to cup the side of her neck, "it conveys more than words can. It displays my intentions, my emotions, any possibility that is held between us."

"I see," she repeated, her lids falling heavily over her eyes, her lashes lying like lace against the skin.

"You try."

"Try what?" Questioned the Queen of Hyrule.

"Try to tell me something without using words." He lowered his head towards her, his face drawing in closer against his will.

"Hmm, well. . ." Her voice trailed off, soft and dark as fine velvet that rubbed against the inside of his mind. She narrowed the distance between them until her forehead rested against his. Her breath tickled his cheek and smelled faintly of red wine and sharp cheese. She let them stay that way for a moment in perfect peace with only the crackling of flames to break the shroud of quiet and blackness around them. "What do you think I am trying to say?"

He gulped, tongue darting out to moisten suddenly parched lips. "I am afraid to answer," he said finally.

"And I was afraid to ask." Her voice was frail as she spoke, the words seeming to come like cracking ice, sharp and unsure as the change of seasons.

"At least, I inspire some kind of fear in you, even if it is not as your enemy." He could feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, and he was suddenly fifteen again on the verge of becoming a man with the first woman he'd ever held in front of him.

She turned away from him. The contact and the moment were broken. "We are still enemies. I am still queen, and you are still my captive. I think it is time we end this lesson." She stood up and gave him her back. Without another word, she strode swiftly to the door and left.

"So we are," he whispered to the shadows as the echo of the slamming door rang in his ears.

* * *

Zelda did not return for several days after that, and Ganondorf found himself sorry for the absence of her company. For despite all things, he was growing fond of her presence. There were times when the Queen of Hyrule was so cold she seemed to burn with it, and yet there were others when he almost saw softness seeping through. It was like watching a dam slowly give way under the pressure of the river it had held back for years. She was a strange woman this Hylian queen. She had been nothing like he had expected her to be, and he was quietly thrilled by her despite his reluctance to admit it.

A week passed and he began to fear that she had frightened herself away. What if her own emotions and self restraint had gotten the better of her? What if she was creeping back into that old, hard shell of hers? If that happened he would lose any opportunity for freedom or revenge he had. He couldn't lose his one chance. She would come again. She had to so that he might seek his own brand justice. These were the lies he fed himself.

She came in unexpectedly one day, bright joy and triumph ringing in her steps. She tried her best to hide the mischievous smile on her face by tucking a strand of hair behind one pointed ear. He read the signals all the same though. When it came to this endeavor she was as transparent as crystal.

"May I ask what has you in such a good mood?" He questioned from his seat on the couch.

The smile flared to life again. "You may."

"Well?" He raised his brows for emphasis, already guessing what the answer was before she spoke.

"It's working," she replied cryptically.

The former King of Thieves nodded his head in understanding. There was no more that needed to be said. It was written in the happy features of her face and the arrogant sway to her stance. It was an air he had often seen his young sisters wear when they had conquered an opponent or courted a man they had been pursuing for months. Who ever would have suspected Zelda the Great being capable of such a girlish demeanor? Certainly not him.

"So?" He felt bile rising in his throat. His plan was succeeding for better or worse and that meant that she might no longer have a use for him. If he could no longer teach her lessons in the art of flirtation she might withdraw her company from him or worse yet, separate his head from his neck.

"So, he has asked me to dinner," she took a seat across from him, crossing one leg over the other and lacing her fingers across her knees.

He nodded to her in false satisfaction, something tickled in his stomach like a sleeping bird fluttering its wings. "That is all good and well, but the real question is what will you do now?"

A sharp smile creased her face. "That is why I am here. I am torn between accepting and rejecting both have their advantages and their weaknesses. If I accept I seem too eager, too willing to traipse after him, and if I reject he may be discouraged and the effects could be . . ." she grasped for a word to encompass the direness of her situation, "unpleasant."

"You make valid points. It is a fine line you are walking, and you must strike a delicate balance."

"So what do you suggest I do?" Her arched brows shot towards her hairline, and he suddenly found the whole situation very funny. Never in a hundred lifetimes would he have thought that he would have this conversation with Queen Zelda.

"Decline," he said too quickly. The word slipped over his tongue and out of his lips before he even paused to think about it.

She frowned at his answer. "But it seems to me the consequences of declining him are far greater than those of accepting his offer."

He held up a finger to pause her speech, backpedaling desperately in his mind for some excuse or logical thinking behind his response. "I said decline not reject," he started. "Be polite and courteous. Offer him another opportunity. Create a reason."

"In other words, lie," she said drolly.

"Is this not what the entire situation is built upon? Lies?"

She shrugged carelessly. "Fine, you have a point, but are you sure this will not drive him away? The man is temperamental at best, and I will not risk my kingdom on your hunches."

"I am certain," he said softly. He let his eyes roam over her face, recalling the shadows that had been cast on it the last time he'd seen her. He remembered how her lips had been stained red with dark wine. He wished it was not day then. He wished the sun was not slanting down in narrow beams through his one window. He wished for the mask of night and firelight that would shroud them from one another, concealing their identities. "If he wants you, truly wants you, then this one thing will not deter him. If anything it will make his appetite for you stronger like a starving man having a meal set before him that he cannot touch."

"Or like a man who sees a crown that he cannot place upon his own head." She leveled her gaze at him. Her pupils widened with a predatory cunning, and he knew she was studying him inside and out, trying to decipher him like those treaties she must pour over in her study. He only feared that she might see deeper than he wanted her to. She might see through the tough leather of his skin and the blade of his greed to that strange thing that caused the stirring in his belly.

"Or a queen who would see others imprisoned because she cannot break out of her own," he retorted without a thought. He watched her stiffen, spine suddenly straight as an arrow, mouth and eyes growing tight as she fought her own anger down.

They stared at each other. They were two creatures in perfect understanding of the other. He could see her weaknesses, and she could see his. The only difference was that he could accept that, and it seemed she had not come to that point yet.

She stood and smoothed the skirts of her dress. Her face was harsh and cold and bleak. It seemed as sterile and lifeless as a porcelain doll's, like the death masks he had seen placed on some Hylian Kings' tombs. "Be careful not to overstep your boundaries, Gerudo. Do not mistake my tolerance for stupidity."

* * *

As was her custom, Zelda did not return to his room for some time after he had angered her. This time he did not fret or worry over it. He spent the days thinking and studying everything he had learned about her. He looked the information over from different angles, trying to formulate some sort of plan of escape. Still, he could find nothing. At times, he would search within himself to find some trace of magic or sorcery. He would try and tap the lines of energy he felt rushing in the stones beneath the heels of his boots, but all the attempts were in vain. He could press his face as hard against the glass as he wanted, but it would never crack for him. He did not know whether the power was merely laying dormant like flowers slumbering beneath snow, or if it had been completely taken along with the Triforce of Power. Perhaps the most disturbing thing of all was when he realized how little it bothered him.

He should have been raging, plotting, and scheming. He should have been fantasizing of ways to blast himself out of the castle and ripping the crown from Zelda's hands; instead, he found himself sitting in front of his platter of half-eaten food wondering how she would look when he saw her again. He still hated being cooped up in one set of rooms that seemed to grow smaller by the day, and he still hungered for a power that was no longer his. It was just that somehow these things were more bearable with the knowledge that at any moment she might sweep into his chamber.

When she did show up again, it was with a clear air of agitation about her. He could almost see the air vibrating around her like a hive of angry wasps. The moment she crossed the threshold of his chambers she ordered the guards away. Thankfully, none of them protested the request, seeming to take their monarch's strange visits in stride. He wondered if they attributed it to being the carrier of the Triforce.

She took a seat across from him and let out a shaky breath. Her wrists and ankles fidgeted as she tried to find a comfortable position. Finally, she settled for curling up against the arm rest, and she seemed impossibly small to him then. Uncertainty was etched into her, and he could see it as clearly as the indigo veins that branched at her wrists.

He did not ask her any questions though curiosity burned in him but waited for her to speak first instead.

"I do not know what to do," she said at last.

"Then tell me and perhaps I can offer you some counsel on the matter," he stated, leaning forward on his knees and placing his hands flat on the table between them.

She lifted her head up and laughed. "Your advice is what got me into this matter in the first place."

"Well then it may be my advice that will get you out of it," he responded acerbically.

She shook her head irritably. "He asked me to dinner once. I politely declined like you suggested. I lied through my teeth so well my father would have been proud of me for once. He asked again later. I dared not refuse him twice. So he stayed at the castle, and we had dinner in my solar. We then went for a walk through the garden, and he tried to. . .to kiss me." She pressed a gloved hand to her brow, disgust written on her features.

Ganondorf was careful to check his expression and not let his eyebrows knit together or his mouth curl down into a frown. He wasn't jealous. What right did he have to be? It was part of a game that had to be played, and his was a small and dwindling part. "And you did what?"

"I rebuffed him, gently of course." She slowly shook her head again.

"May I ask why it bothers you so? There have been many men who have made fools of themselves in this way, and the world saw another sunrise. Why did this rattle you?" Yes, rattle was the perfect word. She seemed shaken, lost in a storm of her own thoughts and the possible paths she saw splitting out before her.

"He did not take my rejection kindly. I think had I been anyone else he would not have stopped." She swallowed and seemed to gather her strength for a moment. "You must understand, Ganondorf, I am a queen, but I am a woman as well. I have seen what happens to women in war. I have seen my own soldiers raping your warriors. I have seen a person's very own body used against them as a weapon."

He closed his eyes at the mention of his people, trying to hold back the memories that would inevitably spring up. He had tried to forget that part of the war. Bile still rose in his throat at the thought after all these months. Suddenly, he was very angry again and ashamed. He had been their king, and it had been his duty, his birthright to protect them from such atrocities. Rape among the Gerudo was worse than murder, and the sentence for it was worse than death.

He let out a deep breath and forced his eyes open. He looked at Zelda, and his old hatred for her flared to life again. The Hylian soldiers were under her command. She should have stopped it and prevented it. For the first time, he found that he could have wrapped his fingers around her neck and squeezed the life from her until her face turned red and then blue. No one would ever call him a virtuous man. He had lied, stolen, and killed when the need suited him, but he had never forced himself upon a woman.

Then she looked at him, and he saw the same fear in her eyes that his sisters might have felt. The feeling evaporated inside of him. He had no right to blame her for the individual actions of her men. It had been war, and it was a simple and cruel truth that those things happened in wars even when you tried your best to prevent them.

He saw her then not as his enemy or even as a queen but as simply a frightened woman. There was a proverb among the Gerudo, "We are all sisters of the same mother." Something inside of him broke and gave ground to a far more tender feeling. He knew what he wanted what to do, but he was not sure if that was what she wanted. He knew only that it was what she needed.

He stood, moved around the table, and placed himself beside her on the divan. She remained curled against the arm rest. He listened to her breathing slow and steadily. Cautiously he reached out his arm and rested his hand lightly on her shoulder like he would have done with a skittish horse. She didn't flinch or curse at him like he expected her. She lifted her head from her forearm and fixed a weary look at him and laughed. It was a short and bitter sound.

"Goddesses, what has the world come to? I am taking advice and comfort from a man who would have wrecked my kingdom like a ship on sharp rocks."

"As you said yourself, you are a queen but also a woman. I am a disgraced king, a thief, a murderer, and your enemy, but I am also a son and a brother."

She pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation. She reached her hands out helplessly in front of her as if searching the air for something. "I wish. . . I wish I had . . . ," she shook her head in defeat. "No, never mind. It's a stupid and girlish thing."

He quirked a brow at her and felt the dark mood lift for a moment. "What? If I am to help you in this venture anything could be of assistance."

She smiled in embarrassment at him, seeming not to mind that his hand was still on her shoulder with the ends of his fingers brushing the side of her neck. "My harp."

He did not bother to keep the surprised look from reaching his face. "You play?"

She nodded. "Oh yes, it is one of the few arts that I have a passing interest and talent for. It soothes me. As a girl, I would lock myself in my room and play to calm my mind. My mother encouraged it, and my father overlooked it."

He paused for a moment in hesitance of what he was about to say. "I would love to hear you play."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She sat up fully, and his hand drifted off of her shoulder.

"Yes, I would," he said sincerely, and her eyes lit up.

"That is one request I shall grant then," she responded.

**Really, this chapter didn't live up to the first one in my opinion. It's kind of just a filler chapter to establish their ongoing relationship. I tried to introduce a softer side to both characters. Well, I hope you at least enjoyed it, even if it wasn't worth the wait. Let me know what you thought. **

**P.S.-You'll notice the time lapses. That's because well there's nothing much else for Ganondorf to do in his rooms besides talk to Zelda. Plus, I don't plan on this being as long as The Brightside of Darkness. **

**P.P.S.-I still hate the title, suggestions would be nice.  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Taming the Tiger Chapter 3

**Alright guys as always I am sorry for the delay. I wish I had some good excuse but I don't. This story just doesn't come as easily to me as others have for whatever reason. Maybe it's because I'm writing from Ganondorf's perspective, which I am not familiar with. Anyways, I'm sorry this is short, but I had to break the chapter up into two parts since the end of this seemed like the best stopping point I was going to come across anytime soon. The good news is that means I'm about half through the other chapter. So no I don't own the Legend of Zelda. Nintendo does.**

For three days, he kept to himself and waited for her patiently. He ate, slept, and thought on his last meeting with her. He had not expected her to open up to him as she had. This was a side he had never seen nor ever thought she was capable of showing. She had seemed so cold and impervious to him. She had been a proverbial iceberg of self control and restraint. Now it seemed that the summer of war had thawed the icy queen of Hyrule. She was melting beneath the weight of the consequences. Layers of her were sluicing away, and he was beginning to make out the silhouette of the woman she might have been had the crown never come to her. He could feel his own cycles and seasons turning within his heart, fresh, tender shoots of new emotion creeping like rambling vines over his heart. When had he become so soft?

She entered without permission as always and carried a hard, black case pressed against her chest. Her hair was free adornments save a slender circlet that encircled her brow. She wore a simple violet dress made out of linen with seed pearls sewn into the hems at the sleeves and neckline. It made her look like some virginal maiden taken from a fairy tale. He was oddly moved by the sight of it and his breath hitched in his throat. It was strange that the queen would be at her most beautiful to him without all of her royal trappings. He thought it might have been the young shepherd that still lurked somewhere within him who had spied on young Hylian girls from across the ravine of the Zora River when he had taken the goats and sheep to feed on the spring grasses left behind by the rains.

Rather than sitting across from him as she had every time before, Zelda seated herself beside him. She laid the case on the table and flipped open the latches that kept it shut. A lap harp lay against the blue satin lining and shone darkly. It was carved from cherry wood and gilded with gold. The pegs were made of polished brass. He could see the wear of time on it where hands and fingers had left their indelible marks.

"It was my mother's," she said softly as she lifted it from the case, settling it against one knee and shoulder. "It's all I really have left of her."

He made a noise of acknowledgment but said nothing else as he watched her carefully tune the treasured instrument. She plucked the strings experimentally several times before seeming to find the range that she desired. She coaxed a few hesitant notes out before stopping and staring at him in what he thought might be embarrassment.

"I'm sorry. I'm just not used to playing in front of people." She shook her head, golden hair shielding her face from his eyes.

"If it makes you feel any better," he offered, "I used to play the pipes, and I was terrible at it."

She smiled wickedly, the one that he was now beginning to recognize. "Yes, I do admit that your failure does bring me some small joy and confidence."

"It is good to see that some things never change," he responded.

She laughed genuinely, the tone free and unfettered. Then with a look of desperate concentration etched onto her features her fingers found their proper places, and she began to play.

The notes came slowly and sweetly in the beginning like the first few drops of rain. Then the beat sped up and her fingers plucked the strings with an assurance born of long practice. The music swooped and fell beneath her careful hands like a bird in flight. He listened to the melody unfurl itself and wrap around his ears and worm its way into his heart.

Her hair swung in front of her face as she leaned forward into the music. Her eyes never left the strings, and he was certain she was as unaware of him as if he had never been there. The music carried on for a few indeterminable moments that passed like seconds to him. He drew closer to her until his knee touched hers. When he inadvertently bumped her knee with his, she stopped playing and looked up at him with shock in her eyes as if she had truly forgotten he was there.

"Please continue," he coaxed gently, throwing the timbre of voice low and calm as he would with a skittish horse.

"Oh, of course," she breathed in surprise and then resumed her playing, never breaking the contact between them. Soon that first song ended and another started without a pause or break. The tone of this one was slower and deeper, and it seemed to mimic the pattern of a long and winding river as it coursed its way through a rolling countryside. He closed his eyes momentarily, able to picture it perfectly in his mind. Over time, the melody grew more and more distant as the river traveled from pastoral hills into distant mountain peaks towards a sun that never set and an evening that never ended. It was not until the very end that the Dark Lord realized that the queen was playing a lullaby.

His mouth opened in surprise as the last soft notes rang in the close and heated air of his chambers. When had it become so hot? His fingers reached up and loosened the collar of his shirt. Zelda seemed oblivious to the sudden rise in temperature as she sat waiting expectantly for his reaction.

"Well?" she inquired, an eyebrow cocked and arched in anticipation.

He thought on it for a moment, aware of how delicate a moment this was. Too much praise and he would seem insincere. Too little and he might seem apathetic and she might shut herself off from him forever, but for the life of him he could not say why the thought troubled him as much as it did. "You play with surprising skill," he settled on at last.

Her expression eased into one of resignation. He could see her rolling his words over in her sharp mind, looking for any hints of a lie hidden beneath them. Her violet eyes roved over his face in analysis. "Thank you," she said quietly, laying the harp to the side for the moment. Her hands curled into nervous fists in her lap, but she still did not move from his side as he would have expected her to. "Do you play anything besides the pipes?"

"The organ mostly," he replied offhandedly, ignoring her knowing smirk.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he said, his voice assuming its customary tone of mock offense.

"It means you would pick the loudest and most ostentatious instrument you could think of, wouldn't you?" She rested her chin on a fist and leaned forward into his face, her lips skinning back from her teeth in a predatory smile.

"At least, I picked something that suits me. I never would have dreamed of you playing something as ladylike and dainty as a lap harp," he shot back.

"Are you saying I am not feminine or delicate? I'll have you know that I am the most graceful lady in all the realm. What would you have expected me to play?" Her eyes sparked to life as she dared him to answer her question, all of her embarrassment and shyness gone in a wash of her familiar confidence. She was in her element of confrontation again and clearly reveling in it.

"Honestly, nothing. I expected your ear for music to be as awkward and as ungainly as your feet are for dancing."

She gave out a grunt of surprise and frustration, her hand lashing out to strike him on the shoulder. Quick as a serpent, he caught her wrist between his fingers and held it. Time seemed to freeze around them. He could feel her pulse thumping against his palm and became aware of the breath passing between her lips. She stared at him in astonishment before clearing her throat and casting her eyes to the floor. With only a little reluctance, he loosened his hold on her and let the appendage slip between his fingers.

Her hand fell uselessly into her lap accompanied by a strained smile. "It seems once again you were wrong about me. I am not especially talented at it, but I am not without skill."

"No, you are not," he whispered, lapsing into an overly formal tone.

"Do you think I should play for him?" she suggested hesitantly.

_No_, he wanted to respond too quickly. Tension coiled in his belly like a living beast at the thought of her presenting this same vulnerability to the faceless man who constantly occupied both their thoughts. It was odd to think that he was plotting against a man who he had never seen and whose name he did not even know. It was quite possible that Zelda was exaggerating the King's flaws in order to get Ganondorf's sympathy and manipulate him, but that didn't sit right within the context of their predicament. Her fear of the anonymous monarch seemed genuine, and he could tell she was not the kind to easily let her emotions color her perception of a situation.

"Come now," she prodded, "give me your opinion. You've never held out on me before. Why start now? Keaton got your tongue?"

He grunted in acknowledgment and leaned back against the sofa, throwing his arms out on either side and crossing one leg over the other. He glanced over at her once and saw that her typical mask was again in place. For a moment, he wondered what it was made out of clay or steel. He wondered how easily it would crack under heat or pressure and if he had the tools to achieve it. Then he separated himself from the messy thoughts and thought on her idea. He didn't like it that much he knew, but he was there to give her sound advice not how he actually felt about things. "I think it is a clever idea. After all, the royalty are taught to expect certain things out of women. It could not hurt. It would show that you are talented and cultured." He struggled to keep the words even as he spoke, feeling that uncomfortable squirming in his belly again.

She nodded in agreement, smiling in satisfaction that he approved of her idea. That was certainly a new development. "Yes, I hope it will have that effect. Besides, it will give him something to be occupied with besides trying to get his hand up my skirts." Her mouth twisted into a bitter smile like cooling iron hardening before his eyes.

"I'm sure it will. Music has a way of calming people."

"Yes, I've heard it said that music can soothe the savage beast though I am beginning to doubt that saying thanks to you," she quipped.

He raised an eyebrow at her and tapped his fingers against the back of the couch. "So your music was an attempt to subdue me then?"

"Oh no, there is no longer a need to subdue. You are caged, my dear beast," she gestured to the thick, stone walls surrounding them. He became all too aware of their smothering presence. His skin almost itched with the need to escape like he might claw at the walls until his finger nails broke off and bled. He could feel the friendly air that had blanketed them swiftly evaporating as they fell into their familiar routine of rivalry.

"I see. I suppose I should be honored to be considered as part of your menagerie. Tell me, _Zelda,_ what kind of animal do you believe resides in this cage?"

Her smile turned from bitter to sickeningly amused as she stood. She reached out a fine-boned hand and grabbed his jaw, twisting his head from side to side like a slave in the market square. He clenched his teeth in indignity. He thought of how he'd held her wrist in his fingers earlier and how fragile and hollow the bones had felt like a bird's. He could so easily grind them into nothing more than shards and splinters so that she would never be able to do that to anyone again. Then she stopped her silent inspection and let her burning eyes find his. His furious thoughts subsided, snuffed out like a brush fire in the rainy season. The embers of them were still burning and simmering, but it all seemed so inconsequential in the brazen glow of her stare.

"I thought at first a boar do to your greed and stubbornness, but I do not think that is fitting," she said in a thoughtful voice that seemed to fill up the room. "No, I think a tiger is a better match for you my Lord Gerudo."

A twinge of surprise flared inside of him as he recalled his old nickname among the women of his tribe. It shocked him how much that one small memory still hurt. He could almost hear the ghosts of his sisters laughing. "If a tiger I am, milady, then perhaps you should be more aware of where you place your hands for I have heard they have fearsome claws and terrible teeth." He grinned wide to be bear his sharp canines.

"Hmm," she sighed as her grin softened into a knowing confidence. Her thumb ran along the line of his jaw as if she were petting a cat, and he fought not to close his eyes at the contact of her naked fingertips. She withdrew her touch and started walking to the door. "Do not worry. I already wear this one's pelt."

* * *

He ate and slept and rarely thought like the caged animal he knew he was gradually becoming. Her words and actions from their previous encounter awakened a dreadful realization in him. He was becoming tame. He was becoming domesticated, docile. He was slowly transforming into the one thing all the Gerudo feared. His lust for the open dunes of his homeland gnawed at him. When was the last time he had felt the wind on his cheeks, sand beneath his feet? He couldn't even remember anymore. All that the soles of his boots had felt for months was the hard stone of the castle floor. He didn't pace as much anymore because he hated the clicking sound that constantly accompanied him when he did. He was so used to moving in utter silence through the hot days and cold nights of the Gerudo Desert. How could these Hylians stand that incessant noise of living indoors? Everything echoed and reverberated like a tomb. Not even the sounds within the Spirit Temple were amplified this much. Even there there was a hush of silence and dignity that he had never found in Hyrule. Why was it that he had wanted this land so badly? It was nothing but softness. Then he stared at the platter on the table in front of him and remembered the all too real hunger he'd felt in his belly as a child. There had been numerous times in his life where he had gone days without food. He had never tasted real red wine until he was twelve, and he'd stolen it from a caravan. His mouth thinned into a grimace at the irony of his situation. Now he would trade all of the silk and fine food in the world for the abrasive wind and burning sun of his homeland. He would give up everything to hear his sisters singing in their high and keening voices like wandering spirits.

Still, there was the matter of Zelda to contend with. He had grown up among women his entire life, and he had never encountered any like her. His people had their emotions and thoughts tattooed onto their faces and hearts. There was no deception or treachery among them. There could be none if they were to survive in the harsh conditions of Din's Cradle. The Queen of Hyrule was in many ways the exact opposite of the kind of woman he had grown to respect and love as a boy. She was cold and reserved, cunning and manipulative to a fault, but he see could a fire and strength in her that mirrored that of his own people. He could see within her soul a streak of iron as wide and as deep as the Zora River. If only he could more properly tap it and see what the results might be.

He shook his head and ground his teeth. Useless thoughts were cluttering his head. He could see no outlet. His wits had failed to find a solution to his imprisonment. He had no power to draw on and no political connections to twist to his own uses. All of the potential plans he'd drawn up died before they ever drew breath. He only knew one thing for certain and that was that he had to get out of there. He had to see the sky again and hear laughter even if it was that of his enemies. There had to be some way out that didn't involve his death. If only he could see it.

She returned sooner than he expected. Her abrupt entrance startled him out of a midday nap. He shook his head in anger. He was getting bored and lazy like a pampered house cat. He was forgetting that he was in dangerous territory. He could not afford to be caught off guard even by her.

"Was my little kitten asleep?" she asked, though the words seemed oddly half-hearted and hollow.

He stretched his arms over his head and his legs out in front of him before getting to his feet. The action seemed to amuse her a little. He walked forward, shoulders straightened and head cocked to the side. "Even tigers and thieves must sleep," he replied, "and I have always been a creature of nocturnal habits."

"Oh yes, I recall that quite clearly from your numerous night raids on my supply trains. How could I forget? Half of my soldiers swore you were a demon made flesh."

"Perhaps they were not wrong."

She smiled up at him, not impressed by his looming height or wide shoulders. "If you were then you wouldn't be here, now would you? After all, aren't demons supposed to be able to evaporate in a puff of smoke and sparks? You spew much smoke and sparks, but I have yet to see you conjure a flame."

"And I have yet to see you sufficiently put out any fires." He watched her face to see what he might glean from her expression, but it remained frustratingly placid.

"Maybe," she stood on tiptoe so that he could hear her murmured words better, "I am too fond of the warmth to put them out."

He locked eyes with her and did not let his gaze waver, seeing the challenge in hers. He could feel that inexplicable allure of her again, drawing him against his own judgment and will. Like calling to like his mother might have cackled. "So did you play for the King?" he asked as much out of curiosity as to keep his mouth occupied.

Her serene facade cracked just a bit, a slight down-turning of the lips and a twitch of her forehead.

"Not well?" he ventured.

She dropped her eyes to the floor. "Am I that easy to read now?"

"Only to me," he replied and was shocked to realize that it was true. No one else would have been able to detect the subtle change in her, but he had. He could read her like a map. He had slowly become accustomed to her nuances and habits.

"No, it seems he had no appreciation for the art of music or at least my playing." She rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment. "I believe the words he used were 'how very quaint'." Her mouth twisted into a sneer as she recounted the event to him. There was not much to tell. She had invited the King of Holodrum to her solar, and after talking and eating, she had offered to play for him. He had not been enthused to start with and seemed bored throughout her entire performance.

"Then he is the true boar between the two of us," Ganondorf offered, finding the comforting tone in his voice uncomfortable for both of them.

"Thank you," she said awkwardly, slipping around him to the sanctuary of the divan.

He stood in confusion for a moment as he tried to process what had just happened. It all felt so unreal and yet natural at the same time. He had given her comfort, and she had accepted. Shouldn't she be rebuffing any kind words he had with icy tartness? When had the world turned upside down? _The moment you entered Hyrule Castle in chains, you idiot_, his mind chided. He turned to look at her on the couch with her eyes still averted.

"So what shall you do now?"

"I am not sure," she quietly answered. "I was so certain that it might make him more enamored with me though what good that does in the long run I'm not sure. I'm just really postponing the inevitable." She sighed and hung her head in her hands in a rare gesture of defeat.

He shrugged at the honesty of her words. "It is true. You have no intention of marrying him, and your rejection could very well lead to war. However, it is buying you time and that is one thing you need more of."

She nodded heavily in agreement and leaned back against the couch in weariness. "Yes, time, time, and more time. The problem is I don't know how much I need and how much I can get. He is growing bored with just my company. Apparently, I am not half so charming as I thought I was." She smiled at her own lame attempt at self deprecation.

"Then you must find a way to entertain him. Take him hunting."

"And have him become infuriated when one of my knights outdoes him?"

Ganondorf grunted. "That is a bit of a problem. He is volatile; at least, from what you've told me. I've never met the man so I can't be sure." Then an idea came to him. He could see his path to temporary freedom open up before him as if Din herself had sung the idea into his ear. "I need to meet him."

The queen's expression quickly turned to one of shock. "What? You can't be serious? Why in the Goddesses' names would you want to do that? What could you hope to accomplish?"

"You should know that you cannot properly judge an enemy without thorough research. The only information I have on him is what you have given me," he elucidated.

"And that is all you need."

"I am not doubting your skills of observation or wisdom or intuition or whatever it is that you choose to call it, but the simple truth is I am a man and he is a man."

She narrowed her eyes skeptically. "I am not certain of either one of yours' masculinity. Is there a point to this?"

He bit back a retort to the obvious insult. "I am simply saying that because of that fact there maybe things I can understand and see in him that you cannot. Besides, you have to admit that it would keep him entertained. He must have heard how you defeated the savage King of Thieves. He must know that you keep him locked in your tower like a play thing. If that would not pique his interest I don't know what would."

Her eyes became violet slits in her face as she thought over his proposal. "I'll give you this Gerudo for all your bravado, you can make a damn convincing argument."

He smiled fiercely in triumph. "Might I suggest that we meet outside of my rooms?"

Her face grew stormy. "What difference does that make?"

He spread his hands wide before him. "What thrill is there in seeing a tiger in its cage?"

**Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter. Your feedback is always helpful.**


	4. Chapter 4

Taming the Tiger Chapter Four

**I actually have a good excuse (kind of) for why this took so long! Seven pages into the chapter I decided to completely scrap it and rewrite it! Yay!**

"It is done," she said as she walked into his chambers and softly shut the door behind her. Her voice was quiet when she spoke and almost hesitant.

"What is, milady?" he said, not bothering to look up from a book he had managed to find hidden in the rooms. It was not particularly interesting, but he was not going to give her the pleasure of seeing how eager he was for her news or for her.

"You know what," she replied in a way that was supposed to convey anger but sounded mostly tired and worn out to his ears.

He snapped the book shut at the tone of her voice, looking up into her face. Her expression was serene and composed like a pool of still water, but Ganondorf knew that there were things swimming beneath it that he could not read or see. He signaled for her to have a seat across from him. "So you have somehow secured me a meeting with the King of Holodrum?"

She nodded heavily as if that simple act was almost too much for her to manage. "Yes, and believe me, it was a hard won battle." Her brow wrinkled slightly as she became momentarily lost in thought.

"What is the price they are demanding for this one allowance, and what excuse did you give them? I know they must have questioned you fiercely."

Her face lit up in bitter laughter at his words. "Fiercely, Gerudo, is an understatement. They all but verbally skinned me alive when I brought it before them. I told them that I thought it would be a good opportunity to show him Hyrule's strength. They know what he's after as well as I do. He's swimming through the waters like a shark smelling blood." Her lip curled in disgust. "It took me a long while to make them see how this could be a strong political advantage for us, but in the end, they backed it. Goddesses, if Hyrule were not so weakened from this last war I wouldn't need them at all. I could dispatch them as I pleased."

"But Hyrule is weak and so you must play to them. Now, what is it that they want out of this bargain?"

"You are to serve as entertainment for the king of Holodrum. You are to fight in a tournament against five men. That is your price," she said in flat and deadened voice.

"They're trying to kill me, aren't they?" he said calmly. It was no great surprise to him. He had known from the moment he entered the castle that he was alive by Zelda's whims alone, and that it was her influence and presence that kept him from dancing at the end of a hangman's noose.

Her eyes slid to his face and met his without flinching at the question. "To be honest about it, yes," she said without a faltering or quavering in her voice. "They would not be sad to see the sand drinking up your blood."

"And you allowed this? Do you wish to see me meet the same end as they do with a sword plunged hilt deep into my belly?" Had he finally outlived his usefulness to the queen? Had his demand to see the outside world been too much?

"I talked them down from their original proposal of twelve men. I did the best with what was given to me and that was not much."

He nodded towards her. It was the truth. They were being slowly driven into a corner. "How long until the tournament?"

"Three days from now," her voice dropped to a whisper, and he could almost see a storm brewing in her dark violet eyes that matched the circles underneath them.

"Three days? Well, then will I at least be given a proper sword and armor?"

"Yes, I shall try to secure something as close to a proper sword and armor for you as I can though I admit it is difficult with such short notice and your size," she replied with a tight, forced smile.

He gave her a more genuine one in return, his mood brightening at the thought of seeing the sun again and the prospect of a good fight. "There is always my old armor and sword that you confiscated if it hasn't all been melted down to make nails and horse shoes by now. You should really be much more concerned about the knights you send in to face me."

The smile on her face eased into one of the calm, patronizing smiles he imagined she used when in court facing some duke or marquis who was overly flattering. It was meant to soothe and reassure anyone who saw it. It must have taken her years to perfect it, or maybe she was just a natural.

"You doubt my skill?" the thief asked, his pride hurt beyond any reason he could offer up.

She shook her head in denial. "No, no, I just have many things to think about and plan. I have seen you fight. I know what you are capable of."

"Then you know something I don't." It was not a question. His eyes narrowed at her in sudden suspicion.

She stood up too quickly like a puppet pulled on a string. "I know many things that you do not," she laughed, refusing to meet his eyes.

"You're hiding something from me. I can tell. What is it? What should I know?" He rose from the couch and started to follow her to the door where she was retreating.

"There is _nothing_ that you need to know. Now I must go. I have many things to attend to today." Her eyes finally focused on his face, and they were cold and distant in a way they hadn't been in a long time.

Taking advantage of the temporary pause between his strings of questions, she opened the door and left as quickly as she could manage. Ganondorf stood there for a moment after she was gone, the heavy slamming of the door still ringing in the air, contemplating attempting to go after her. There was something she was not telling him, something he needed to know, but he would never get to her now. Reluctantly, he turned away from the one entrance and exit to his chambers and resigned himself to waiting out those three days to find out what fate had dealt him now.

* * *

The night before the tournament was to begin as he was sitting in front of the fireplace thinking on what lay ahead of him he heard the door to his room open and shut softly. His eyes moved from the wavering flames of the fire to the deeper shadows of his room that clung to the doorway. His shoulders tensed under the silent scrutiny of an unseen pair of eyes, but he did not move. Surprise was the one advantage he had against whatever assassin the Council had finally decided to send against him. He waited anxiously with his ears perked to catch any sound.

Feet shuffled lightly behind him as someone walked in his direction. Whoever the Council had sent they were sloppy that much was evident. When a hand landed on his shoulder, he grabbed it without thinking and twisted it. There was a sharp muffled gasp of pain from the intruder. He stood up and climbed over the low couch, turning the arm behind its owner and using the momentum to slam whoever it was face first into a wall. He pinned the neck with his other hand and was surprised to learn from the long hair that it was a woman. Then again, his own sisters were warriors despite their sex, and perhaps, the Council thought a woman might be less conspicuous.

For a moment, the air was filled only with the sound of harsh breathing as the anonymous figure struggled to draw breath. She fought for a moment against his hold, but he tightened his grip on her wrist and she stopped.

"Let me go, thief, or I'll blast you from here all the way back to your accursed desert," a familiar voice hissed, and the hand that he held twisted against her back crackled with magic.

"Zelda! What are you doing here?" he whispered back fiercely as he let her go. He took several steps back just to be safe incase she did decide to unleash her attack on him anyways. What would bring the queen of Hyrule to his chambers in the middle of the night? If he had been able to see the stars he could have determined what time it was, but he knew it must have at least been after midnight.

"I believe Your Highness would be more appropriate given the circumstances," she retorted as she straightened out the length of her white nightgown and smoothed her hair back with her hands.

He frowned at her and gave a deep mocking bow. "Forgive me, Your Royal Highness, it seems I have forgotten myself upon finding the Royal Monarch sneaking into my room in the middle of the night like a teenage girl going out for a tumble in the hay behind her parents' backs. How did you even get in here? How did the guards not see you?"

Her expression soured at his words. "How dare you? I have every right to go anywhere I please. In case you've forgotten, this is _my_ castleand _my _kingdom."

"You still haven't answered my questions," he shot back, crossing his arms over his chest and fighting to keep his eyes on her face. He hadn't noticed it earlier, but she was wearing only a thin white linen shift. She was standing directly in the firelight, and it was casting a silhouette of her body beneath the criminally light material. Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice it, and he was not about to tell her.

She took a ring of keys out of a pocket on the front of her nightgown and held it firmly in her hand. "The guards just changed so I decided to sneak in while I could."

For a moment, he forgot she had pointedly ignored answering his first question and allowed his eyes to focus on the dark iron keys dangling from her grasp. There, right there in front of him, were literally the keys to his freedom. The sight even managed to distract him from the outline of Zelda's form. If he could somehow take them from her without her causing a stir, but then he would have to incapacitate her . . .

"Do not even think of it," she said sharply, her words slicing through all the plans blooming in his head and turning them into smoke and fog.

He blinked slowly and met her face once again. "What? I don't know what you're talking about I was merely thinking."

She smirked and tucked the precious keys back into her pocket. She let out a low laugh, tossing her long hair that reflected molten honey in the firelight over her shoulder. "I have no doubt you were thinking. Thinking of taking these keys from me and fleeing."

He swallowed and tried to think of some sweet lie he could tell but knew from the expression on her face that it would be useless. He had been a king of thieves and liars but part of his rise to power had come from knowing who could be lied to and who could not. Queen Zelda had never struck him as one of those people who could easily be led astray even before he had met her face to face and seen that sharp cunning laying behind her beauty. He simply spread his hands wide in front of him and gave an apologetic smile. "What would you have me do?"

She shrugged carelessly and took a seat on one of the two settees in front of the fireplace. "Nothing," she said as she looked directly at him, the frantic firelight casting half of her face into liquid shadow. The visible side of her face glowed warm and golden. Her hair seemed to turn into something almost as insubstantial as light itself and her eyes were dark pools beneath her arched brows. "You are what you are, Ganondorf, and I can no more fault you for that than I can the water because it is wet or fire because it is hot. Those are intrinsic properties of the elements and so it is their nature as this is yours."

He took a step forward and rested his hands on the back of the couch in front of her. He cocked his head to the side, weighing her words in his mind. It seemed that they had come to some sort of strange and miraculous understanding. Just then he wondered what he must look like to her in the inconstant light cast by the fire. Was he ugly to her? Handsome? Familiar? Foreign? Did it really matter, and if it did then why? At last, he shook his head and returned to his original query. "I will ask you again, Your Majesty. Why are you here?"

She looked down at her lap before letting out a deep breath. "I have to come ask you for your help against the Gerudo."

"No," he said quickly, frowning at her.

"Hear me out," she raised a hand in supplication, "please. We are still fighting a small war against them, but we are winning, inch by inch, we are winning."

"Then I do not see why you have come to my chambers to disturb my rest with this, milady, if you are indeed winning as you claim you are," he answered angrily. He must have imagined that understanding he had seen moments ago. If she truly understood him then she wouldn't be asking such a ridiculous question.

"Listen, would you? Just listen before you make such a rash decision. We are winning, but it is a slow and painful process. If you would just help us then we could spare both our people's much pain and many lives," she said in a pleading voice he had never heard from her before.

"There is another reason for this offer at this moment. This discussion could have waited. Why now?"

She swallowed before speaking, looking almost ashamed, guilty. "Because if you agreed to help me in this endeavor . . . the Council would cancel the tournament tomorrow. You wouldn't have to fight _anyone_. You would have so much more freedom. You wouldn't be a prisoner or a criminal. You would be an ally."

"No," he sighed, feeling a weight drop onto his shoulders so that he sagged onto the back of the piece of furniture. She was hiding something from him. He was certain of it now. She would not be this worried if there was not something for her to fear.

"Please," she whispered as she stood up and moved to the couch supporting his upper body. "Please," she repeated, her hands grabbing onto his wrists and staring up into his face.

"Have I gone mad or are you actually begging?" he muttered, forcing his lips into a weak smile.

Her face took on a look of false indignity. "Begging? A queen does not beg. I am suggesting. I am asking. I am commanding, but I am not begging."

His eyebrows knit together even as he tried to keep his smile from crumbling at what he was about to say. "But you cannot command me because you are not my queen."

"I could be if you would just let me," she said so faintly he thought he might have imagined it if not for the desperate look creeping into her eyes.

"No," he said again with every bit of strength and finality he could muster. He stood and shook her hands from his wrists.

She stared up at him in shock as if he had slapped her. Then she rose and the pain was wiped from her face like it had never been there. Her face suddenly seemed like it was made from marble and ice for all the emotion that it showed. There was only a faint creasing between her eyebrows to show all the anger that she was bottling up. "Fine then," she said in a tone devoid of any feeling, cold as winter, "keep your pride and your loyalty but know that they will not keep you safe from a sword or an axe. They will not bind up your wounds, and they will not protect your back when knives and daggers are aimed at it."

"Zelda," he growled, moving a step towards as she got off of the couch and made her way to the door, the keys jingling against her thigh.

She stopped abruptly, her hair spinning out behind her. "That is Your Majesty or Your Highness. Goodnight, Sir Dragmire. I am sorry to have disturbed you with my foolish offer. I hope you sleep well. You will need all of the rest you can get before the morning." She bowed her head to him and continued her path to the exit.

He stepped in front of her, blocking her chance for escape. "Do not leave like this. You know this is not how you truly want it to be."

"Please get out of my way, _sir_, before I call the guards."

"You wouldn't."

"Do you dare try me?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

He shook his head in anger at her, cursed quietly under his breath, and moved to the side.

"Thank you," she whispered as she moved past him to the door. Her hand gripped the knob as she turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Here take this. It may bring you some luck."

Then she was gone with a soft click and all that was left of her presence was something white fluttering to the floor. He stooped to pick it up, wondering how exactly she was going to get past the guards who he was certain were back by now. He scoffed when he realized what it was. He held a delicate lace handkerchief between his thumb and forefinger. He squinted in the dying light to see that her initials were stitched into the fabric. The Queen had given him her favor.

* * *

The morning dawned with Ganondorf sitting on the edge of his bed, his blood thrumming through his veins in a way it hadn't in months. He could almost feel the sun rising outside of the thick, stone walls like he used to when he lived in the vast, open desert. Despite Zelda's apprehension the night before he was almost looking forward to the tournament. It had been far too long since he had held a sword in his hand and faced a single opponent in battle. He breathed in deeply through his nose with his hands resting lightly on his knees. He saw the desert beneath him, wide and open as the sea. He could feel the sun burning down on his shoulders and back, the warm winds sending him rising and falling. The Spirit Temple rose on the horizon, ancient and implacable as time itself. The weathered and all-seeing eyes of the Goddess of the Sands watched him neutrally as he soared over her head and towards distant sand dunes.

His meditation was interrupted by the door opening and slamming. His heart rose in his chest until it was hammering against his ribcage. The breath in his lungs caught in his throat at the thought that it might be the queen coming to see him one last time before what she thought would be his death. It sunk when he saw five guards round the corner and eye him with something very close to distaste in their eyes.

"You are Ganondorf Dragmire I presume," said the captain, distinguished only by the short red cape he wore and a certain smugness about him that the Gerudo instantly disliked.

The former king of thieves stood and towered over the much smaller Hylian man. "Unless there are other desert warlords here being kept prisoner, then yes, I am he."

The captain's blue eyes narrowed at him, his jaw working as if he might reply with some quip of his own. "Well, if you will just come with us we will get you ready for the tournament."

He shrugged, the thrill of the upcoming fights temporarily doused by Zelda's absence. He made a gesture telling them to lead the way. The leader made a quick hand signal and two others stepped forward bearing shackles. Ganondorf stared calmly at the wall above their heads as they went about their work. Within several minutes, his hands and feet were chained. He grimaced as they locked manacles around his wrists. It was a feeling he would never forget or grow accustomed to.

With that done, they formed a tight perimeter around him and ushered him out of his rooms and down the hall. He ignored the jingling of his chains as he walked along and the baleful glances cast by the gentry and servants they passed. He simply breathed and focused. He tried to find that one calm place buried so deep inside of him it was a wonder that it even existed. It was there with the memories of his mother and sisters and aunts. It was watching the sun rise over the desert and turning the sky pink and purple and orange. It was riding a horse so fast and wild that the land blurred around him and the wind stole the breath from his lungs and the words from his tongue.

They walked for what felt like a good half hour before coming to a flight of steps heading down. The men walked him down the stone stairs and into a darkness that the watery grey light of dawn did not penetrate through the narrow windows. The landing at the bottom ended in a single wooden door barred from the outside. The captain gave a nod to one of his underlings, and the obstruction was removed. Ganondorf was marched through the doorway, ducking his head as he passed under the lintel, into a wide and sparsely furnished room. It held two long benches that ran along its opposite sides and several whet stones and cloths used for oiling and cleaning armor.

The guards around him dispersed immediately like he suddenly smelled foul as their leader stepped in front of the taller Gerudo. The man cleared his throat as he prepared to speak. "Your armor is in the far corner," he pointed in the direction where a breast gleamed darkly in the dim light, "along with your sword. When you are done readying yourself for battle, exit out of the door closest to you. The door we came through will be barred to you as I am sure you know. There should be someone waiting outside to lead you to the courtyard where the tournament will be held." The man cleared his throat a second time, his jaw working as if he felt he was supposed to say something but wasn't quite sure what. What did you say to a man who was about to face combat and whose death you wished for? Ganondorf only smiled down at the man, amplifying the tension in the room.

The captain's blue eyes dodged around underneath his iron helmet as he sought some escape from his current predicament. At last, he ordered his men out and soon trailed behind them. The door boomed after them followed by the bar being slid into place. He sighed wearily, stiffly walking over to the armor leaning against the wall. Much to his disappointment, it was not his original armor but a beat-up, worn out breastplate with so many dings and dents in it it looked like it had been used for target practice. He grimaced at the thought. It probably had. There was also a pair of vambraces that looked to be in no better shape than the breastplate. He turned in a circle once just to be sure he had not missed anything. Nothing. Those were the only things resembling any kind of defensive gear to be seen in the room There wasn't even a small shield. _Well,_ he thought, _they certainly made it clear which side they're on. _He wondered if Zelda had anything to do with the sorry state of the armor provided to him. He shook his head at the idea. It didn't matter now.

With slow fingers, he buckled the breastplate on and then the vambraces, drawing out the process as much as possible. Donning armor was a ceremony and ritual in the Gerudo tribes. Since it was so rarely worn by the warriors, it was considered to be a grave occasion when it was put on. The king of his people was always dressed and blessed by his mother and sisters before going into battle. They sang hymns as they buckled and tied every piece into place. Incense was lit and special oils were smeared across his forehead and the backs of his hands. It was done so that the Great Mother might recognize him as one of their own during battle and spare him from her terrible rage. The Gerudo believed that when they went into battle their goddess went with them and because he was the only male she might mistake him for an enemy and strike him down by accident. What he was doing now was a far colder and more detached affair than he was used to.

When that was done, he found the sword intended for him leaning carelessly in a corner. It was heavy and crude with several notches along the side to suggest someone might have used it more than once to chop firewood or some other homely chore. He reached for it and found that it had a surprisingly good and steady grip. It didn't fit his hand quite as well as his own had, but it was certainly better than what he had expected to be given.

There was only one thing left to do. The door stood in front of him, waiting for him to go through. He hung his head in indecision. Part of him yearned to go charging out underneath an open sky and meet whatever it was those Hylians had in store for him. Another part of him, the far more sensible part, valued his skin and life just a little too much to go out there so eagerly. Ganondorf's feral instincts had always been tempered by his pragmatism and desire to survive. His mother had once said that if the world were to end in fire only he and cock roaches would survive. He smiled at the memory.

His hand reached for the knob without him realizing and twisted it opening the door. A slender figure was waiting for him in the light falling through the stone arches along the right side. Several heavier figures flanked it as it separated itself from them.

A man in his mid-thirties with graying brown hair and small blue-green eyes took a haughty step towards Ganondorf. His expression was not of fear or hatred like the Gerudo was accustomed to. It was one of morbid curiosity and even playful malice.

"It is so good to finally meet you," he said warmly, though his eyes remained cold. "I am Fillepus, King of Holodrum."

**TA DA! What is this two updates in six months? Maybe the world really will end in 2012! But seriously, I started over on this chapter twice, once completely trashing it, and the second time redoing the beginning. Thank you for your reviews on the last chapter, but I noticed that it wasn't quite as many as previously. I think I know the reason for that. That last chapter wasn't very good. I just wrote it to write it, and that's what I did in the beginning with this chapter. I was in such a rut that I considered it an accomplishment to just slap some words down and be done with it, but that's not fair to either one of us. It's a waste of my time to do that and it's a waste of your time to read it. So I do want you to know that I actually did put some real effort and thought into this chapter, and I enjoyed writing it in a way that I haven't in a long, long time. **

**So thanks with your patience and for sticking with me. I know this story has been slow in updating, but I am hoping to pick up the pace. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts, comments, critiques, and suggestions on anyway this can be improved. Does this chapter seem like a step up from the last one? Was the scene between Ganondorf and Zelda in character with the personalities I have set up for this story? How big of a douche should I make Fillepus?**


	5. Chapter 5

Taming the Tiger Chapter 5

**The Legend of Zelda is the property of Nintendo. I don't own a damn thing. If I did you can bet I would have changed some stuff around.**

The air thrummed with predatory tension like that moment right before a rabbit bursts from its hiding spot because it knows it's been spotted. Ganondorf said not a word of greeting, allowing his silence to speak for itself. He had no intentions of entertaining this man, and he was letting it be known. Their eyes met, assessing the other. Something prickled along the seam of Ganondorf's back as he stared into those eyes that were as cool and emotionless as blue gems. He did not let his gaze flick from Fillepus's. It was not that he feared the smaller man but the king of Holodrum was not what he had expected. He had expected an arrogant fool drunk on power. This was a man with a tight rein on his emotions but beneath that control was a seething mass of red and raw feeling that was in danger of being let loose. This was a man who could lose himself completely and utterly to his own madness if he allowed it.

The Gerudo saw this and recognized it because he himself had almost fallen prey to it. He had felt it begging him and tempting him when the Triforce of Power had first been granted to him. Every bit of darkness in him had been awoken and amplified by the relic. It had called to him. It had sung to him a lullaby sweeter than anything his mother ever had. He felt a deep, gnawing ache inside of him at the thought of it. He realized that was what an opium addict must feel like.

He blinked to dissipate the thoughts and refocus his attention on his opponent. Fillepus stood waiting for him to do something. Ganondorf continued to remain still, every nerve in his body telling him to end this man while the opportunity presented itself. His eyes shifted from side to side to make a quick count of the guards. There were six that he could see and probably at least another two that he couldn't. He was fast enough and good enough that he might be able to mortally wound the man before his guards had time to act, but then his life would be forfeit. Zelda nor the Goddesses would be able to save him from that fate.

An image of himself swinging his sword high over head to decapitate the king and then taking out as many soldiers as he could before he died played through his head. What a heroic idea. What a stupid one. He snorted in derision. He was no hero, but he found it oddly tempting.

"What is it that you find so funny?" the small man asked as he stepped around Ganondorf in a slow circle like he was eying a new mount at a horse show.

"A secret," Ganondorf answered calmly swiveling his head around to maintain eye contact with the other man.

"Would you mind letting me in on your secret?"

"I'm afraid I can't. Then it wouldn't be much of a secret, now would it?"

The king let out a short bark of laughter and covered his mouth with a fine white handkerchief. "I suppose you're right."

Silence resumed again as the Holodrummer made a second inspection and then stopped at his original starting point. He cocked his brown head to the side and studied the large man before him with a gleam in his eye that reminded Ganondorf of a magpie spotting some shiny bauble it liked.

_I'm just another specimen to him_, the former king of thieves of thought. _I'm just an overgrown, exotic animal to him. _

"Zelda has told me quite a bit about you," he said offhandedly.

"The same cannot be said for you. I have not seen her much since she captured me," he replied with one brow lifted to show his indifference to the subject. He did not like this man discussing Zelda. It made something inside of him tremble with a wild wind.

"She told me that you were quite the thorn in her side. She told me that you were a great warlord. I do not see that."

Ganondorf narrowed his eyes to slits but held his tongue. He wouldn't rise to the bait. He stiffened his shoulders and schooled his features into contempt and boredom.

"Yes, Ganondorf, I do not see that," the king repeated mostly to himself in thought.

The air thickened and boiled with unspoken threats and promises. Ganondorf knew that soon stronger words would be spoken and his tolerance was fraying. He would not be able to bite his tongue forever, and he knew that Filepus knew that and was counting on it.

A sharp clicking came down the hall towards them and both men's heads snapped in its direction like hounds catching a scent. The queen of Hyrule strode down the archway with three guards in shining breastplates and helmets following her. Her attire was more formal than anything the Gerudo had seen her in recently. It was made for official appearances and state functions. The dress was a shade of deep purple that complimented her eyes with seed pearls sewn into the tapering ends of the sleeves and the hem. Her usual diadem was replaced with a small golden crown that sat low on her brow. Her back and shoulders were stiff and her expression was detached and cold. It made him remember the first time he had seen her up close when she had paraded him in front of her court. It also made him remember their last bitter meeting when she had backpedaled and put as much distance between them as she could. It seemed what little time had passed had not thawed the ice she coated herself in.

She stopped beside Filepus and gave him a warm smile. The man returned it. He then took her hand and pulled it to his lips where he kissed the back of her hand. It seemed as if only Ganondorf could see the slight tinge of green in her face when the king's lips brushed her skin. Then again that could just be his wishes coloring the situation. Anyone else might have thought it seemed like a genuine and appropriate display of affection between two royals courting, but the disgraced dark lord knew better. He had spent his entire life studying people and unraveling their lies so that he could spin them better ones. It was as clear as daylight to him that Zelda's smile was brittle and forced, that her posture was rigid and nervous. He read only base lust in Filepus's face as he gazed at the queen. He saw only her crown and what was hidden between her legs when he stared at her.

"What have you been discussing with my . . . guest?" she asked sweetly, her eyes wandering over to Ganondorf.

"Nothing of concern, milady," Filepus said, "only that this is not what I expected of the great scourge of Hyrule."

"Oh?" she said, her voice hinting at laughter. "Well, he can be disappointing at the most inopportune moments."

"I am only disappointing at those tasks which I cannot complete," he rumbled, his tongue finally loosened from his chains. He would allow the king to bait him, but he would not have her dragging out any personal issues she had with him.

Her eyes sharpened at his reply before she turned her gaze back to her suitor. "What were you expecting, _dearest?_"

"I was expecting something much more. . . what is your word for it? Fierce. Savage. Barbaric. Yes, that is the word I'm wanting to use. Barbaric."

"I assure you he is a savage barbarian and stupid to boot," she said in a chilly voice that would have slicked the hallway in frost if it were possible.

The Gerudo felt his pride flare to life at her comment. "Really, Your Highness? I am hurt. You certainly did not seem to mind my being a savage barbarian the other night, and it was certainly not my stupidity you admired," he said in a silky voice.

Both of the monarchs' eyes widened at his words, and their faces went deathly still.

Filepus lifted an arm to signal his guards to rush the prisoner, but Zelda raised her hand to stop him.

"No," she hissed, "leave him be. He is a fool who does not know what he says or does."

The king of Holodrum shot her a look of shock. "You cannot be serious? I cannot allow this insult to go unpunished and unanswered."

The queen did not turn to look at the man courting her but gave Ganondorf the full benefit of her weighty stare. "If you were to give him injury now, milord, it would prevent him from providing entertainment to the full extent of his already very limited abilities." Her lips turned up into a cold smile full of disdain.

Ganondorf bit the inside of his cheek to fight back the retort dancing on the end of his tongue. It was not her words that fired his blood, it was the look on her face. He had never thought so much disdain and disgust could fit into one beautifully cool expression.

The king narrowed his eyes in thought before nodding in agreement with her, but there was some idea sparking in his eyes. "That is true, and everyone has come here expecting a good and rousing fight. Perhaps there is a way though to inflict a proper punishment without causing him physical harm."

"I am not quite sure I grasp your suggestion. I cannot think of anything appropriate that could be administered in such short notice," Zelda said as she turned her icy gaze from Ganondorf to the king.

"I recall you telling me about an artifact of great power that you possess. The try-something or other," Filepus said with a casual wave of his hand.

"The Triforce," Zelda corrected stiffly.

The Gerudo felt his heart do double time in his chest. She told him! Why? How could she have been so stupid? It made no sense. The Triforce was closely guarded secret of the Hylian royal family, and it had taken him years of hard work to stumble upon its secrets. Now here she was giving the information away to that power hungry mad man who could not even begin to possibly appreciate it.

"Yes," Filepus said as he clasped his hands behind his back, "you said it granted its wielder much power and many different skills."

"Yes," she answered carefully, and Ganondorf could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

He understood then that she had been feeding Filepus false information about the Triforce to make Hyrule seem less vulnerable. It was all a bluff. The king of Holodrum had no idea that Zelda only possessed one third of the Triforce, and that one was not even best suited for protecting the kingdom from wars.

"Well, then shouldn't there be some way you could inflict pain upon him without causing his body physical harm? I've heard you espouse the mental abilities that the Triforce grants its carrier for some time now."

"While it is true that the Triforce does grant its vessel many powerful gifts in the realm of mental prowess, I have never used it or heard of it used in that manner. I do not be-"

"So you are saying that you will allow this Gerudo to get away with inflicting a vile insult upon your character?" Filepus asked in a falsely innocent voice with brows raised as he awaited his answer.

Ganondorf watched as the gears of Zelda's mind worked so furiously that he half expected to see smoke rising out of her ears. She had been backed into a corner. They both knew that the her piece of the Triforce was capable of no such things. He had never seen it used in offensive magic but for her to back down was to reveal her ruse and show how truly weak her country was.

Her eyes met Ganondorf's once again, and all the contempt was gone from them. They were filled with a silent pleading for compliance just this once. He thought of refusing to go along with her stupid plan. It would serve her right, but then, he reflected on the fact that life would be much less pleasant under King Filepus than it was under her. He lowered his chin imperceptibly to let her know that he was with her.

She looked away from him and cleared her throat. "If it would please you I could try to the best of my abilities, but you must keep in mind, that I have never done anything like this before so you must be patient."

A curious expression crossed the Holodrummer's features as he took a step back to give the queen enough room to perform her task. Zelda stood in front of Ganondorf, raising her arms for effect and looking directly into his eyes.

He didn't have to be able to read her thoughts to see the urgency gleaming in her eyes for his cooperation. He took a few steps back as if in fear of the pain that she was about to inflict.

"You will stay in your place, savage," she growled a little too realistically for his liking, "or the punishment that you receive will be much worse and much longer lasting."

He stood still then and allowed her to take a few steps towards him. Her lips began to move as she murmured words to some made up spell. She wasn't even really saying anything. The things she was uttering were just jumbled up syllables, but the king did not seem to realize that as Ganondorf let his eyes slide over to the other man.

When Zelda's lips stopped moving and her fingers and back arched he knew it was time to uphold his end of the bargain. He had to play his part well. He couldn't over do it or the king would know it was all just a show, but he also had to make it impressive enough to satisfy the little monster.

He recalled all of his extensive experience with pain to aid him in that moment. He remembered all of the whippings he had received as a boy when he had refused to listen to his elders and his own sullen defiance. He remembered the feel of a sword slicing through the flesh of his upper arm and having to keep fighting. He remembered seeing that wounded look in Zelda's eyes as he had refused her offer the night before.

He stiffened his back and straightened his shoulders. His arms went rigid at his sides as he forced his hands to slowly curl into fists. His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned into a straight line. After several silent moments with Zelda continuing to flex her fingers and occasionally murmur the gibberish word or two, he allowed a low groan to escape his lips. His nostrils flared as he blew deep breath through his nose in mock distress. He swayed precariously for good show before letting his knees buckle beneath him.

He continued to hold his chin up in open defiance to Zelda. Her brow furrowed in apparent concentration as she pretended to focus harder on her task. She took a step forward. Ganondorf rocked dangerously on his knees before falling onto all fours in front of them. He hung his head and let out another deeper groan of pain.

"Are you sorry?" Zelda asked as she took another step towards him.

"No," he panted, crumpling onto his elbows, pretending that the nearer she got the more intense the pain became.

Her hands flexed spasmodically, and he knew that was his cue. He forced a short scream from his throat, wishing that he could summon tears for greater effect. He settled for pressing his forehead to the ground to hide his face from them. He could feel laughter threatening to burst from him if he wasn't careful. The whole thing suddenly seemed so ridiculous that he wasn't even bothered by the fact that he was kneeling on the floor in front of Zelda and Fillepus.

He felt her press her foot onto his shoulder in a show of triumph. "Are you sorry, now?"

He nodded vigorously, acting as if he were in too much pain to even speak.

"Say it out loud!" she commanded, her voice ringing with authority.

_Goddesses, is this really necessary?_ He thought in exasperation. "Yes," he hissed. "Yes, I am sorry. Please, please just make it stop."

"That's better," she said with a smug tone of approval after removing her foot from his shoulder.

"Very impressive," Fillepus stated as he sketched a bow to the queen.

Ganondorf made himself appear to struggle as he pulled himself to his feet. He feigned pain in his limbs, making his hands tremble for effect.

"Thank you," Zelda said quietly. "Now that I believe the barbarian has endured sufficient punishment, let us go to our seats to enjoy the show."

"That sounds like a splendid idea," Fillepus said as he offered her his arm, and she took it. Both of them gave Ganondorf their backs as they strode off for their destination.

He watched them go taking their guards with them with no small measure of relief. As they started to recede into the darkness of the archways, he saw Zelda turn her head slightly to look over her shoulder at him. He thought he might have seen gratitude on her face but couldn't be sure from the distance. She was hard to read at the best of times.

When he could no longer see them at all, he made his way to the courtyard that had been temporarily converted into a sparring yard. A large square had been sectioned off with a makeshift fence. He could see guards and knights lining the walls, and when he looked up he saw nobles filling the balconies. Shadows flitted between them as servants ran to and fro with refreshments. His eyes narrowed in hate as he spotted a row of noblemen ranging in age from mid-forties to one who looked like he was into his eighties. They all wore the same stylized emblem at their throats. It had to be council. Several of them flicked their eyes down at him, examining him as if he were no more than an insect that had caught their attention.

He turned his back on them and leaned against a tree that stood in the corner of the miniature arena. His eyes roved over the crowd that had gathered to watch him fight, bleed, and he was sure they hoped die. All of the gentry were there to get a glimpse at the exotic Gerudo who had plagued their borders for months before being captured by their saintly queen. It made his blood boil just looking at their pale, pampered faces. He was careful to keep his face blank and his arms crossed. He would not give these bubble-headed idiots something to titter about later at the next ball.

The whispering was silenced as Zelda and Fillepus took their seats in a balcony directly overlooking the square where the fighting would take place. The queen's face was a white mask as she sat down on the wooden throne that had been brought out for her. The king of Holodrum wore a knowing smirk that Ganondorf could tell was his usual expression.

A small man in a herald's uniform stood before them and cleared his throat. "In honor of the king of Holodrum, Fillepus the second, a tournament is being held. Ganondorf Dragmire, known as Mandrag Ganon to some and former king of the Gerudo, will fight five opponents. The winner of each round will be determined either by disarmament, concession of defeat, incapacitation, or death."

He rolled his eyes at the last option. He knew which one everyone was hoping for, and he had no doubt that each of the fighters he would face had been hand selected to be the best and most ruthless they could find.

"The first opponent will be Sir . . ." the crier paused and licked his lips. "The first opponent will be Mallor sul Lofarth."

His eyebrows furrowed at the strange sounding name. It was not Hylian or Gerudo, and it did not sound like a Goron or Zora either. A figure came swaggering towards the fighting ground and hopped lightly over the fence. He was tall and heavily muscled with closely shaven dark hair and a multitude of scars that crisscrossed his arms and shoulders. Now the strange name made sense, the man was obviously a mercenary though Ganondorf could not pinpoint where he haled from. The soldier-for-hire had dark hair and eyes and tan skin that could have meant he was from any country.

He wore no armor aside from a tough and worn leather jerkin and a small round shield on his left arm. The former warlord watched him with a careful eye, looking for any physical weaknesses that he might be able to catch and use against him. Just as he thought, there were none. On closer inspection, he could see the Hylians had been careful in their selection. Mallor was large enough to be a force to be reckoned with, but Ganondorf could tell from his smooth stride that he was fast too. His heart beat a little faster at the thought that he might actually have a challenging fight ahead of him. He both relished the prospect and dreaded it.

When the herald had resumed his place in the shadows behind Fillepus and Zelda, the mercenary strutted towards where Ganondorf was still leaning against the tree. He wondered casually how much the salesword had been paid. It must have been a lot for him to be this eager to start the fight. Then again, Ganondorf had no idea what they had told the other man about himself.

Mallor kicked the toe of his boot against the ground, sending up a cloud of dust towards the disgraced king and lifted his sword before him in a gesture of challenge. The Gerudo lazily unfolded his arms and took up the notched sword that was leaning against the trunk of the tree by his side. There was no time to assess the situation for as soon as his sword was in his hands the man flew at him like an arrow shot from a bow. He threw up his sword in front of him and deflected three quick strikes before taking a blow to his side from the small shield.

He fell back as the mercenary came at him again with the speed of a striking snake, raining blow after hissing blow against him. Ganondorf cursed under his breath and went on the defensive. He moved in a slow circle, blocking swipe after swipe, trying to work himself away from the corner of the fence. His mind worked furiously as he tried to figure out some sort of strategy to work to his advantage. It was hard for him to come up with an idea when he was constantly batting away attacks, and he now realized how out of practice he was. Months cooped up in a tower had done nothing for his swordsmanship.

A diagonal blow was swinging down towards him, and he danced back out of the way again. His opponent pursued him, and they engaged in a game of cat and mouse around the small square. If Ganondorf bothered to actually try and deflect a swing with something defensive he would encounter that damned shield. The aching in his side from its earlier impact was now only a dull throb. Another strike came slithering towards him like a silver ribbon. He parried it. The shield came hurtling towards him as he had predicted. Instead of trying to avoid it this time, he slammed his shoulder into it and watched with satisfaction as the man staggered back a few paces. He took the opportunity to put more ground between them where his greater reach would serve as an advantage for him.

He made a few experimental lunges and probing swings but nothing serious. He was still testing the waters. His sisters had taught him from an early age that a fighter's greatest weapon is his brain. The Gerudo were strong, but Hylian Knights were stronger. As the ages had passed, the women of his tribe had learned to rely on cunning rather than brute force. He began to see a pattern to the man's fighting style. He was like an animal functioning purely on instinct. Once he found a groove that he fit into, it was hard for him to work his way out of it.

For several more minutes, the two men worked their way around the small arena with Mallor swinging blow after blow, and Ganondorf dodging and evading to the best of his ability. He had hoped that his enemy's strength might have started to flag by now, but it appeared as if no such luck would come his way. He would have to end this himself then if he wanted to preserve his strength to face the other four fighters.

He pretended to stumble on an unseen rock and fell to one kneel. A gleam of knowing triumph winked in the other man's eyes as he raised his sword to deliver the killing blow. The Gerudo hid a smile as his sword swung not up to protect himself from the oncoming blow but forward and to the side, slicing deeply into the soldier-for-hire's thigh and hamstringing him.

The scarred man screamed, dropped his sword, and fell to his knees clutching his leg. The former king of thieves rose from his vulnerable position to stand over his opponent with a tip of his sword at his throat. He stared down at the mercenary who was glaring at him through the narrow slits of his eyes, his jaw trembling as he tried to suppress the pain coming from his leg. There was a moment of thickness in the air as everyone waited in anticipation of what the savage would do. He weighed his two options carefully in his mind. This man was only doing what he was paid to do. There was nothing personal to it. Then again, how could you not take someone trying to kill you personally? A wicked smile creased Ganondorf's face as he drove the point of his blade into the man's throat.

The crowd murmured amongst themselves at the spectacle that they had just witnessed. They had long ago become immune to the sight of blood and gore, but they had not expected him to win and so swiftly at that. He could sense the unease building in the air around him as he contemplated who his next match might be.

His second match was against a knight whose name he could not recall with a long list of tedious titles that meant nothing. The nobleman wore a full suit of armor with a heavy triangular shield on his left arm. He moved cautiously and slowly towards the Gerudo, keeping his shield up and his sword before him. The two slowly circled each other as they waited for someone to strike the first blow. In the end, it was up to Ganondorf to be the one who initiated the fight. He swung a light and easy blow towards the fool and watched as the shield came up. This one would be harder. There were only a few places in the armor where his sword could penetrate, and the man no doubt would expect that. He was now facing a man who was patient and experienced and who believed he was fighting for the honor of his queen and country.

The Gerudo cursed in his mind as he forced himself to take the offensive, adopting the fighting style of his now dead enemy. He swung wildly and rapidly, never allowing a moment's reprieve. He whirled and dove and wove circles around the knight, making quick jabs when he could. He screamed out warcries at the top of his lungs as he attacked, trying to frighten the knight into making a lethal mistake. He knew he was reinforcing the Hylians' opinion of him that he was a mad savage. Let them think that. He no longer cared about not giving them something to gossip about. The old and familiar thrill of battle was running through his veins, and it would not be quieted or subdued. The knight blocked and hid behind his shield like a turtle in his shell, only rarely daring to trade blows. Ganondorf began to see that he would get nowhere fast with his current strategy and began to focus his efforts on the man's helmet. He put dent after dent in the piece of armor until it was so dinged up the man had to take it off because he could not see out of his visor.

The metal husk hit the ground with a clang as the two resumed their fighting. The Gerudo found himself growing tired and bored with the fight and knew he would have to end it soon. He feigned a weak strike to the right, inviting the knight to try and take a stab at him. The man seized the opening, and Ganondorf spun on his heel like his mother had taught him all those summers ago, bringing his sword around in an arc with him. The edge of it caught the Hylian in the middle of the back his head and embedded there. The man groaned more in shock then out pain and well forward onto his face, pulling Ganondorf's sword from his limp fingers.

The victor drew deep breaths as he recovered his strength. Then he stepped forward and put a foot on the dead man's back and wrenched the sword from the back of the knight's skull. The crowd was silent this time as they drank in the outcome. If the outcome of the fight with the mercenary had surprised them this had shocked them. This time one of their own had fallen to the heathen.

The third match came with much less fanfare than the first two. The Hylians had learned to temper their eagerness for blood shed. He caught some of the nobles whispering to each other and sliding glances over to the council members as if questioning the wisdom of their choices.

His third opponent was another knight. He could tell from the spring in the man's step that he was younger than the other one. This was a chance to prove himself and win glory for his house. He lashed out with a quick slice that Ganondorf danced around on the balls of his feet. They traded blows back and forth experimentally. The Hylian was strong and fast and his technique was good.

The Gerudo and the knight circled each other for several minutes as steel clanged on steel, neither willing to take the risk or give the other an advantage. The former king of thieves thought and examined the younger man. Simple sword play wouldn't do with this one. He couldn't hope to tire him out or make him let his guard slip.

In the end, he settled for psychological tactics. While they fought, he murmured a stream of nonsensical Gerudo words and inflected them with a mocking tone. When the young man asked him what they meant, he replied but in his native tongue. The words began to work like a quick-acting poison and soon the knight, believing that they were grave insults, allowed his anger to blind him. He rushed Ganondorf like a bull. The taller man angled his body away from the sword and used the advantage to slide his blade between the buckles of the Hylian's breastplate.

The fourth fight went by in a blur of steel and scarlet. They fought in circles around the yard, trading blow for blow. This opponent was young and fit like the last one but his temper was not as volatile and so Ganondorf could not goad him into rash actions. While they fought, the crowd remained as silent as an audience of corpses. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath as the Gerudo and the Hylian hacked away at each other.

The dethroned warlord received a gash across his forearm and another on his thigh when his sword came up too slowly. Every time he tried to land a hit on the boy he danced out the way. Finally, he mustered up the last of his remaining strength and threw himself at his foe. It was only flagging strength that made him do such a desperate act. If it didn't work he would be a dead man either way. The knight was caught off guard by the sudden change in strategy and struggled to bring his sword up in time to defend himself. The bigger man swatted the blade away and drove the other to the ground beneath his weight. They struggled for a moment but soon it was over. Ganondorf's strong fingers found the gap between the helmet and breastplate and choked the life out of the young knight.

He stood with his chest heaving and blood running down his arm and leg. He felt a twinge of pain in his chest as he sucked down a deep breath. Had he fractured a rib? If he had he couldn't remember how it had happened. He looked up once at the Hylian faces above him. They were cold and impassive, only their sheer silence hinting at the shock reverberating through them. He allowed his eyes to slide over to Zelda's face and found that she still wore her calm, icy mask. The king of Holodrum was propping his chin on his palm and examining the Gerudo with a raised eyebrow like he was a dog that had just performed a surprising and intriguing trick.

He took another deep breath to keep the dizziness at bay. He could feel fatigue dragging at him. His limbs felt like lead. A bubble of laughter swelled in his chest. It was suddenly all so absurd that it became funny. They had all expected him to die after the first fight, and yet he stood there with a Hylian knight growing cold at his feet. The bubble floated up to his throat and lodged there. It started as soft chuckle. Then it grew and expanded until he was throwing back his head in laughter. His arms wrapped around his middle as he bent double trying to contain his humor. A bolt of pain in his chest stopped him long enough to allow him to draw breath and calm himself. When he had composed himself again, he pointed his sword at the ring of nobility above him.

"You thought I would fall before your hired killer and your feeble knights, but instead I gave you four new corpses to bury. Send your best fighter, and I shall give you a fifth," he said in Gerudo and then spit in the dirt before returning to his position against the tree.

He did his best to keep up appearances as he watched them start exchanging whispers again. He forced himself to keep his features schooled into perfect apathy while discreetly checking the wounds he had received in the last fight. The one on his arm was superficial. It was the deep gash across his leg that worried him. The wound was starting to throb and even if he made it through this last match alive, which he was uncertain of, there was a good chance it would become infected if left untreated. He closed his eyes for a moment to try and clear his head and start thinking of some sort of strategy. He had no idea what kind of challenger he would be facing. Another knight? Something different? He had no way of knowing. That moment soon turned into several before he was startled from his reverie by the sound of someone approaching.

He opened his eyes to find a figure walking towards him. The fighter was no knight that much was obvious from his lack of armor. He wore all black except for some design done in blood red on his shirt. As he drew closer, Ganondorf could make out a red eye with a tear drop beneath it stitched onto his loose shirt. The lower half of his face was obscured by a cloth mask.

"A Sheikah," he stated loud enough for his opponent to hear him. "I thought there were too few of you left for you to throw your lives away like this."

The man said nothing.

Ganondorf pushed away from the tree he had been leaning against, careful to hide the wince that crossed his face. He walked in a slow circle around the other man, trying to buy himself time to regain more of his strength and study this new adversary. He wore no armor but that meant nothing. He might be good enough to where he didn't need it. The Sheikah were fast and fleeting as shadows. His own people had believed they were spirits of the dead bound by dark magic to serve the Hylian Royal Family. He shook his head. He knew differently though. They were flesh and blood. They could bleed and die just like anyone else.

As he walked, the man's head turned to follow his path, but he still remained silent. Finally, he realized he could buy himself no more time. He could spot no weaknesses or come up with any strategies. There was no insight to be had from an opponent who refused to speak. He stopped in front of the shadow-warrior and hefted his sword in his hand. "Come then, let's get this over with and see who death waits for."

The dark figure wasted no time and dashed forward without warning. Ganondorf stumbled back and barely raised his sword in time to block a swing. It was deceptively light and slid off his own blade with a hiss. The Gerudo spun around in a tight circle to knock aside the next jab aimed at his side. The Sheikah easily evaded his own clumsy counterattack.

He could feel his heart pounding in chest as his body worked to bring up his sword to block another strike aimed at his side. He whirled out of the way of a lightning fast jab that would have skewered him if he had been any slower. He lashed out in a frantic effort to put some space between them, but the shadow leaped to the side as if it were nothing.

His breath came in great gasps as they worked their way around the yard. He walked in a crouched position with the sword held out in front of him. His lips skinned back from his teeth as he countered strike after strike, no longer daring to attempt an attack of his own. He brought his sword up again to parry an overhead strike and then to the side to brush aside another swing. It didn't take him long to realize that he was being toyed with. The Sheikah knew he was tired and worn out. He would have to have been blind not to see it.

He cursed underneath his breath as he was slowly worked into a corner. Every time he tried to change the direction of the fight there the bastard was herding him like some damn sheep dog. He seemed to be everywhere at once. Wherever Ganondorf turned there he was waiting with his sword raised to swing. The former King of Thieves at first thought it was some sort of dreadful magic being worked on him. He would not have put it past the council. Soon though he realized that it was merely hard earned skill and tremendous talent working against him.

If only he had his magic. If he still had the Triforce of Power the fight would have been over and done with. He would have blasted the man to ashes. Instead, he was struggling to lift his sword to avoid the inevitable for a moment longer. He gritted his teeth against the jarring impact of steel on steel that ran up his sword arm and echoed through out the rest of his battered body. Anger ran through his veins hot and molten like the lava that spewed out of Death Mountain. If he was going to die it would at least be with blood on his sword.

"What are you waiting for?" he grunted to his opponent as he struggled to evade a lunge.

There was no answer. The silent warrior's only reply was the clang of his blade on Ganondorf's. They struggled for a moment with blades grinding against each other before the Sheikah hopped away to resume his taunting.

"Finish it now. You know you want to."

There wasn't even the slightest flicker of emotion across the fighter's face as he struck again. This time the blow landed, and Ganondorf's upper arm was sliced open beneath the passing blade. He hissed and stumbled backwards, sparing a glance down as the blood ran down his arm. He growled wordlessly and started pacing deliberately and slowly. He ignored the new throbbing pain rushing through his body and focused his attention on the man before him.

They danced around each other. The Sheikah struck and then feinted and struck again. His sword seemed insubstantial. It seemed to be made of something lighter and stronger than mere steel. It felt to Ganondorf as if he were fighting three men instead of one. It seemed as if he had been fighting forever. If anyone had asked him to he could not have recalled anything before this match or have cared what happened after it. It was timeless. It was eternal. It seemed as if he had always been doomed to fight this constant and maddening struggle, knowing he was condemned to lose.

He could feel the last strength leaving him. His body was giving out. He was no immortal. He was not a god. He had come close once, but that didn't make any difference at the moment as he repelled stroke after stroke, knowing that it was for nothing. Despite the crushing weight of defeat, there was still some stupidly stubborn spark in him that refused to sputter out and die like the rest of him wanted to. It gave his mind form and his body purpose.

He watched as the man prepared to swing again, and instead of countering like he normally did, he raised his own sword to attack. The Sheikah caught it and stopped his blade in mid-swing to halt Ganondorf's attack. For one moment, things slowed down and became crystalline. He could see every infinite detail. He brought the sword down as hard as he could while lashing out with his foot. The Sheikah's eyes widened with pain and surprise. He grunted and stumbled back. Their swords slid apart. He crossed the distance between them and slammed his fist into that terrible, silent masked face. His enemy's head reeled back, and just as he cocked his fist back to land another blow, he felt something sudden and scalding shoot up from his side. He looked down and saw a terribly familiar blade jutting from his side. His fingers went limp and his sword clattered to the ground.

"She should have let me kill you sooner," the Sheikah whispered as he withdrew the blade.

"I should have known it was you," Ganondorf murmured through bloodstained lips as he sagged to his knees. His fingers scrabbled at the cloth mask separating him from his opponent. Link's red washed face stared down at him in triumph and disbelief as he fell onto his side to the ground and felt the life slowly leak out of him.

**I'm terribly sorry it's been so long since I've updated this. I didn't realize it had been nearly half a year. I'm afraid real life has gotten in the way of me posting this sooner. Another reason is that I simply didn't know how to write this. I hate writing fight scenes. Hate it. I must have started this twice more before tossing it and going with this version. I'm still not entirely happy with it, but I would like to know what you thought of it, and no, this isn't the end of the story.**


	6. Chapter 6

Taming the Tiger Chapter 6

He dragged in a rasping breath and turned his head to see his vanquisher staring down at him. The Hylian's sharp, young features were carefully composed, but he could see the triumph shining out from his blue eyes. It made him sick to know that he had been bested by a boy.

He managed a dry, hacking laugh that flecked his dry lips in blood. Link's face did not change. "So you have finally done it," Ganondorf wheezed. He paused to swallow and tasted blood on his tongue. "And it only took you facing me after I had fought and defeated four men before you to do it. That is truly an honorable victory. I'm sure your weak and pathetic priests will sing your praises to the goddesses."

The boy's eyes hardened at his words. _Good_, he thought, _at least, I have struck a nerve._

"It does not matter what you say," he whispered so quietly no one but the dying Gerudo could hear him, "in the end, you still be dead, and I will be the one remembered as finally finishing you."

With those words, he turned on his heel and walked slowly away across the yard.

Ganondorf closed his eyes against the fading pain. He could feel his strength draining from his body as the grass soaked up his blood greedily. With a great amount of effort, he managed to turn himself onto his back with his face towards the sky. He stared up at the sky blankly before realizing with a slow seeping that his vision was growing black.

At least, he would die outside beneath the sun.

* * *

She felt something inside of her break as she watched him tumble to the ground. Some ancient and frozen part of her thawed and cracked then like a winter gripped river in the spring. Emotion fountained within her and set her heart hammering in her chest. Her throat closed up, and she felt tears pricking her eyes. She did not even hear the swelling cheers around her as the audience celebrated the death of their most hated enemy. Her eyes remained locked on his form as Link stood over him with his sword gripped casually in his hand as if he had not just slaughtered another human being for the entertainment of others. Then the carrier of the Triforce of Courage walked away from his kill. The former king of the Gerudo somehow turned himself onto his back, and she knew exactly why.

She wanted to go to him. She wanted to leap from her throne, vault over the railing, land on the ground, and sprint to his side. She could save him. She knew she could. One of the few gifts that the Triforce of Wisdom had given her was the special gift of healing. Still she remained seated while she struggled to keep her face immobile and her emotions hidden. Her fingers gripped the arm rests, her nails digging into the wood. Her eyes darted over to Felipus to see if he had caught wind of the storm raging inside of her heart. His eyes were fixed on the body in front of them, but she thought she saw him studying her out of the corner of his eye. She swallowed and sat up straighter in her chair.

It wouldn't do to go running out there to his side crying and wailing like some grief stricken widow. It would ruin everything. Felipus would know. The Council would know. Her kingdom would know. Know what? She would have laughed at herself if there was anything left inside of her that could. Here she was having all these ridiculous revelations, and it was too late. Far too late. If they had even the slightest inkling of what she felt, at best, Felipus would return home and start the inevitable war that would come about. At worst, she would be forced off the throne one way or another, and her country would still face a war. Then though they wouldn't even have her to reason with the Council. Those cowardly old men would give into Felipus's demands as soon as they could turn a tidy profit for themselves. Hyrule would be no more than a province of Holodrum. The thought sickened her, and so she stayed on her makeshift throne as solid and rigid as the wood that composed it.

Soon the cheers died down and the gossip began. No doubt this story would entertain many for weeks to come. Even the King of Holodrum at her side had begun chatting to a servant. Zelda remained still and unblinking, afraid that if she moved from her stiff position she would shatter. She would cry later she promised herself. She would cry after all this had been done, and she could lock herself in her room and scream and throw things.

"Milady, are you alright?" the King at her side asked.

She nodded, still staring straight ahead.

"Is something bothering you? I can have a servant bring you something to drink."

She shook her head slightly, mindful of keeping her face as blank as possible.

"That was quite the show. I must admit he put up quite a good fight, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes," she replied reluctantly and slowly, "he did."

"I didn't think he would last so long, though he was very imposing do to his size. He was surprisingly cunning."

Once again, she nodded, unable to bring herself to force unnecessary words from between her lips.

"But that boy, what his name again? Ah yes, I remember now. Link. That boy Link was more than a match for him. I've never seen such a gifted fighter. Did you not say he served in the war against the Gerudo?"

"Yes, he did. That is how he became so well known," she said mechanically.

"I can see why now. He certainly must have put fear in to the hearts of those savages he fought. He should be proud of his victory today. No man of power can stand before him," the King prattled on as he took a goblet of wine offered and drained it.

Something in his words caught Zelda's ear. She whirled around to face him, able to draw her eyes away from Ganondorf's cooling body for the first time. "What did you say, milord?" she asked in an overly eager voice.

Felipus stopped in mid-sentence to stare at her before blinking slowly. "I said that no man of power can stand before him. I merely meant that it doesn't matter if his opponent is a king or a peasant his skills seem boundless."

"Yes, yes, I agree with you completely," she said hastily as she shot up from her chair.

"Are you sure nothing is bothering you?" The Holodrummer narrowed his eyes in suspicion at her strange behavior.

"It's nothing really. It's just that I am not accustomed to seeing so much bloodshed in one day. It makes me ill. I think I will go lie down now. I am so sorry to leave you, but I am afraid that I make terrible company when I am sick." She tried to keep herself from bouncing from foot to foot in her urgent need to get away. She could feel her brain buzzing as if a fever had taken hold of her. There was so much to do.

"Of course, go get your rest. I'm sorry to keep you here," Felipus said as he reclined back in his chair without losing his suspicious expression. Zelda knew that he was puzzling over her strange behavior, but she didn't have the time or the energy to spare at the moment to care.

Without another word, she dashed off past the other nobles and towards her destination.

* * *

The Queen stepped lightly down the steps leading into the crypts. The light of her candle cast fitful shadows on the wall that made the place seem more eerily alive than usual. She took a deep breath as her foot struck the last step. She closed her eyes and braced herself for what she knew was waiting for her down there in the darkness. The smells of musty decay and the strong tang of iron mixed in her nose, reminding her all too vividly of the blood soaking the ground earlier that day. She opened her eyes and moved down onto the floor. She could make out a vague hulking shadow in front of her beyond the light of her candle. Her heart stopped and her step faltered. She breathed out heavily once before moving forward.

She could make out his profile as she came closer. His body was laid out on the stone slab in front of her still in the bloody and dented armor he had died in. His face was composed and placid looking, but she would not call it serene. She did not know if a face like his was even capable of expressing that emotion. Now that she was alone in the dark with him when he could not stare at her with those strange golden eyes of his and speak to her with that terribly deep voice, she took a moment to study him as she never had. She knew she would never call him handsome. That was almost too delicate a term for him. His features were proud and fierce and savage. There was nothing soft or yielding in his face. Even without his piece of the Triforce, he somehow exuded raw power and force. Sometimes she thought he could level her with just his gaze.

The clicking of boots on stone steps made her turn around. The glow of a torch lit up the corridor and grew brighter as the figure approached. Link appeared in the archway, glancing around warily before entering the catacombs.

"Your Highness," he greeted her, dipping his head in acknowledgment.

He looked so young to her in the bright light of the fire. Sometimes she forgot that she was older than him. It now seemed impossible to ignore. Beneath all of the skill and talent and bravado, she saw an insecure teenager on the cusp of manhood. It was hard to believe that a boy barely capable of growing a beard had slaughtered hundreds. Still despite his youth and lack of worldliness, his eyes seemed ancient and timeless, and she could tell that given a few years he would come to be a comely and intimidating man.

"Thank you for coming," she said smoothly.

"Of course, but why did you call me here?" His eyes flicked to the body in front of them.

"I need your help with something." She turned back to the cube of rock jutting from the floor.

"With what exactly?" he asked sharply.

She drew a deep breath as she prepared to tell him. He wouldn't like it. She didn't particularly like it, but it was the only option she could see besides the grim alternative, which she would not even tolerate the thought of now that she could see a brighter horizon. "It will take both of our pieces of the Triforce to restore his to him."

"What?" he said incredulously. She didn't have to turn around to be able to know that his sharp, dark brows were drawn together in a scowl. "Why?"

"To put it simply, balance needs to be restored. I have felt . . . a shift ever since his piece was taken away from him. It needs to be righted. Without the Triforce of Power having an owner, I fear our own pieces will return to the Sacred Realm." She hoped her voice sounded calm and steady. She had practiced the speech over and over again like a prayer.

"How is that possible? He is dead." The hero's voice grew grim as he spoke as if he dreaded what she was about to say.

"Not quite. There is still some part of his spirit clinging to his body, some part that the Triforce of Power touched. I believe that it somehow absorbed the relic's essence when it transferred to him."

"No, Your Highness, he is dead. I killed him myself. I saw him bleeding to death on the ground. Believe me, if there is one thing that I know it is what dead men look like and how to create them."

The sureness of his voice and the pride in his words angered her. "I am very well aware of that . . . skill of yours." She stopped herself for a moment and was surprised to find her hand trembling. "But look," she continued as she stepped forward and touched his hand, "he's not stiffened at all." She grabbed his huge hand and bent it back at the wrist to demonstrate. Bile rose in her throat as she touched his flexible but cold hand. "There is still something in him clinging stubbornly to life." She turned to face the hero.

Link shook his head vigorously. "I do not care if part of his spirit still lingers. He is dead. If another bearer is needed then why don't we find one?"

"He is the original carrier, thus, he is the one best suited for it. If we were to find someone else I am not sure that it would transfer, or what would happen to the person once it did." She was proud as realized that her voice hadn't quavered as she spoke.

The hero shook his head again. "No," he said vehemently. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I do not like it. I do not care if I lose my piece or you lose yours. It is not worth bringing him back and restoring his power to him."

She fought back a tide of frustration and anger. It seemed that he wouldn't be as easily led as she had hoped. No matter, she would use other means. "If we lose our pieces, Link, the consequences for Hyrule could be devastating. I do not know if you have realized this, but Hyrule is on the brink of war. Even now, I'm sure Felipus is chatting away with his ambassadors and councilors about redecorating the castle when he conquers it. If he goes to war with us and we do not have the Triforce, we stand no chance of winning. We will be crushed."

"If we return the Triforce to him," he thrust the arm holding the torch out to point at Ganondorf, "there will be war indefinitely. He will use it the same way he did last time. He will rip Hyrule apart. I would rather take my chances with Holodrum than risk another war with him."

The Queen felt something cold rush through her that replaced the hot anger. She could feel her piece of the Triforce echoing inside her head. Like her, it longed to restore its counterpart to the rightful owner, even if it was for different reasons. It granted her a rare insight into the young man's mind. She could see his faults, his desires, his dreams. There was only the remaining question of whether she would act on this new information or not. Her fingers reached out and grazed Ganondorf's cold skin again. It was answered.

Her lips curled into a cold and reptilian smile as she began to pace a slow circle around him. His wide blue eyes followed her. There was a certain animal-like wisdom in them, but he was still a guileless boy from the forest. She was a creature of politics and intrigue, raised and groomed to be able to manipulate those who would go against her will. She had not become and remained queen for this long by luck alone.

"You say that you are willing to lose your piece if it means keeping the other piece from him, but do you mean it?" she asked slyly.

He nodded. "Yes, I do. I am sorry if that displeases you, but my answer will not change."

"Really? You say it so easily and so confidently. I do not think you realize the full consequences of your actions."

"I know enough to make my decision. I can promise you I am certain of it."

She threw back her head and gave a short bark of laughter. "Only fools are certain of anything, and you don't strike me as a fool."

He narrowed his eyes at her, staring at her like she was a snake that might strike. "I am not a fool, but I do not go dabbling in things I shouldn't. If it leaves then it leaves."

Zelda blew out the flame of her candle and continued her stroll around him. He squinted as he tried to watch her from the light of his torch alone. "Like I said, I don't think you quite realize what will happen when it leaves you. You think that it only leaves Hyrule vulnerable, but there are other more personal tragedies that await. The only reason why you are even standing here before me is because you carry the Triforce of Courage. It is how you are able to defeat your enemies, is it not?" She cocked her head to the side quizzically.

His eyes shifted nervously. "It does aid me, but I am skilled enough on my own."

She nodded in agreement. "True, you are gifted, but that little treasure of yours has amplified it. It has withdrawn you from Death's clutches many times. I know. I've seen it happen. I've seen you almost beaten down, and then soar up again to defeat your enemies. When it leaves you, you will be as vulnerable as the rest of us mortals."

"I do not care," he said stoutly, but she could hear the indecision warring in his voice. "All men must die."

"Yes, in the end, all men do die but not all men live the same sort of life. You rose from obscurity out of a village in the forest that no one had heard of before you. You rose from _nothing_ to become the kingdom's most beloved hero and knight. What do you think will become of you when you are like everyone else?"

He shrugged. "I will deal with that when it happens."

She chuckled, and it sounded so sinister that it surprised her that her throat could produce such a noise. "You say that now, but wait until they realize their beloved hero can't protect them from the armies of Holodrum. Wait until they don't see their knight in shining armor come surging onto the battlefield and crushing everyone in his path like you did in this past war. The only thing people love more than raising someone up is tearing that same person down."

He blinked at her as her words sank in. "You can't know that."

"Oh, but I do. I've seen what happens when the masses turn against you. When they understand that you can't save them, you _won't_ save them, they'll turn on you. They'll shun you and hate you. They raised you from nothing, and they will reduce you to nothing."

"I-" he started, but she cut him off.

"But there is a way to prevent it. Help me restore his piece of the Triforce and yours will remain intact. You can remain the adored and beloved hero that everyone thinks of you as. You will never again be that faceless, nameless lonely boy you were in the woods."

"But what of Ganondorf?" he said weakly.

She ducked her face into the shadows to hide her smirk from him. "Do not worry about him. There are certain spells that I know that will bind him. He will possess it again, but he will not be able to use it." It was a lie of course. She knew of no way to bind any piece of the Triforce magically, but Link didn't know that.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes darting from side to side as if he expected something to leap out and grab him.

"Positive," she lied.

Zelda took the knife f

* * *

rom the inside of her sleeve and bared her left palm. With one quick movement, she drew the blade across her hand without a sound of pain. Link stared at her. She handed the knife to him, and he repeated the gesture.

"Why was that necessary?" he asked.

"Because magic like this always demands blood. The two most powerful forces in magic are blood and sex. Death and life." She began to walk a wide circle around him and where the body lay sprinkling a mixture of salt and silver as she went. She began to mutter words to an old spell that she had learned long ago from some of her distant Sheikah relatives. She wasn't completely sure of their meaning, but the chill that they sent up her spine reassured her of their power.

She could tell that magic frightened him. It was odd to think that after all he had seen anything would be capable of scaring him. Then again, men often feared what they did not understand, and for years magic had solely been the realm of women. She studied the circle around them carefully to make sure there were no breaks in it. It was whole. She wished vainly that she had had time to gather up the right herbs for extra protection. She was not sure how much of him there was left to save, and the less there was the less likely her plan was to work.

She gestured for his palm. He lifted it up for her inspection. She dipped her finger into the blood welling from the cut and mixed it with her own. Her lips curled in distaste at such a primitive and barbaric ritual, but all that mattered is that it would work. She knew that when dealing with these sorts of things only the most basic of all procedures would work.

She smeared the mixture on her finger onto the dead Gerudo's forehead and the backs of his hands, chanting the entire time, trying to keep the rhythm straight in her head. She passed around him three times before returning to her original starting point and held her hand out to Link.

He looked down before taking it. His fingers were slick with sweat as they slid over her palm. She took a deep breath to center herself and shut her eyes.

The hero beside her cleared his throat.

"Yes?" she asked, trying to keep her voice clear of annoyance.

"What exactly do we do now?"

"You simply need to call upon your piece of the Triforce and leave the rest to me. I am the one who removed his piece of the Triforce so I will take care of that part. It's just going to take the combined powers of both of our pieces to restore his to him. So just close your eyes, find your core, and tap into it. "

They both slipped into silence as she entered her meditative state again. She let the currents sliding deep inside of her take her to the source of her powers. She could feel its strength ebb and flow through her. It seemed to sing to her as she approached it. She could feel it chiming through her blood, and it flooded her with that familiar warmth that she had come to love. Off in the distance, she could hear the twin call of Link's piece. It responded to hers. The back of her left hand grew warm as the symbol of the Triforce flared to life. She knew that Link's was doing the same. The golden light filling the room was so intense that she could see it burning through her eyelids.

She could feel the power building up inside of the room around them until it was pressing down on her shoulders, until she felt that she would become stooped underneath its weight. Her fingers squeezed the hero's. "Now," she panted, "lend me your power."

"What?' he said, alarm evident in his voice.

"Just let your power flow from you, down your arm, and into me. It's not hard. Just let your shields fall."

He made a noise of discomfort in his throat, but within a few seconds, she felt a new rush of heat passing up her arm from his. It was jarring. His power was alien and strange to her own. It was bold and aggressive with none of the sly cunning she had felt when she had removed Ganondorf's piece. She still found it odd that each of the three pieces had such distinctive features. It was almost like they shared the personalities of their holders. But then did that mean that they took on the traits of their bearers or did their bearers take on their traits? It was an uncomfortable thought to her to say the least.

She took another deep breath and opened herself up to this new source of energy. The Triforce of Wisdom hummed inside of her and seemed to pacify it's sibling part. She could feel the buzzing energy of Courage die down to a tolerable level. She let out the breath she had been holding.

A part of her reached out into the void between the Realms where she had stored the Gerudo's piece. She saw it rotating slowly before her eyes in the blackness. It winked goldenly at her. She pushed herself towards it and felt it respond to her. The force it exuded was the exact opposite of Link's piece. It was deceptively weak, but she could feel the undercurrents of its power like the undertow of the Zora River. Placid on the surface but roiling beneath. It begged her to take it. It pleaded with her to use it however she wished. She had within her grasp right then all three of the pieces. It was an overwhelming realization. Link still had his piece but with a few pulls she could rip it from him. She could lay Felipus's army flat with a thought with all of the pieces combined within one body. She could build an empire that would dwarf her father's wildest ambitions. She could do away with the Council. She could be the queen whose name was spoken for a thousand years. She saw infinite possibilities and universes unfurling before her, each one more tantalizing than the next.

Then something inside of her woke up out of the state spun by the blissful futures laying at her feet. Yes, she could have all of those things and more if she submitted to her greed, but she also realized it was her own destruction. She knew that it would slowly eat away at her. It would steal everything from her. It would burn her alive from the inside out until nothing remained but a husk.

She drew back from the remaining piece as if it had stung her. She contemplated it for a moment that seemed to last eons. It almost seemed as if it watched her. Carefully, she reached out again and touched it. She felt its smooth temptation glide over her like silk. Using the two other pieces, she caged it and drew it out of the void.

Without opening her eyes, she started walking towards the body. Link trailed blindly and reluctantly behind her. Her free hand came up and rested on the back of Ganondorf's left. Her fingers laced through his as she undid the bindings around the Triforce of Power. It pulsed once inside of her before singing a high, joyful note and flowed down her arm and into him. She felt the flickering spark left within his body flare to life for a moment as it reunited with the relic before the connection was severed.

Her eyes fluttered open as she stepped away from the body, swaying on wobbly legs. She heard Link let out a sigh of relief. She took an involuntary step forward and leaned against the stone that the dead man laid on.

The hero shuffled forward and put his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine," she snapped, waving him away.

A few moments of tense silence passed between them before he spoke up quietly. "I did not like it."

"What?" she asked, not bothering to turn around. Her eyes remained fixed on the still body in front of her.

"Being without it."

"But I didn't take it from you," she answered.

"I know that, but I could feel it . . . fading inside of me. It made me feel cold and empty."

"Like a tomb?" she said laughingly, looking up to the stone arches above her.

"Yes, it was like that. I have been in many places like this, and I have never liked them. I think maybe now I know why. So what now? Is there something else to be done?"

"Now we wait, or I wait. You may leave if you like." She sounded tired even to herself.

When she didn't hear him leaving, she turned around to see him standing where he had been.

"Milady, I do not like the thought of leaving you here alone in this place. If I do not like them, I can't imagine how you must feel." His voice was somber, and his expression was sincere. She was surprised at this new display of maturity from him.

"Thank you," she whispered, "but I am fine. I am quite acquainted with this part of the castle." She did not elaborate on how or why. It was none of his business that she had been trained in the many dark and secret arts of the Sheikah down there.

He hesitated for a moment before bowing to her and heading back up the way he had come down.

She stared down at Ganondorf's body and looked for some sign of life. She did not see any. Her finger gingerly pressed the skin of his wrist and felt it disconcertingly cool to the touch. The last of her strength left her then. Her knees buckled, and she allowed exhaustion to set in. Pressing her forehead against the cold stone, she felt tears leaking down her cheeks. She wasn't sure how long she stayed that way before a noise made her lift her head up. She looked around for its source but saw nothing. Her eyes landed on the still form in front of her. It took her a moment to realize that the noise she had heard was breathing. Now she could see the chest rising slowly in a shallow breath. She struggled to get to her feet and leaned over him.

Her eyes widened as she saw him draw another breath.

"Ganondorf? Ganondorf, can you hear me?" Her voice was a whisper threaded with desperation.

Her hand reached forward to touch his forehead but stopped as his eyes flew open.

**Oh, Jesus something tells me this chapter might have pissed some people off. I'm sorry for that but if you read the long-ass author's note at the bottom it might clear some things up.**

**I have a few things to say about this chapter. As usual, I'm not exactly happy with it, but it was the best I could do given the time crunch I've been in. Also, I know that Zelda was OOC in this chapter, but I did this to show that she can be manipulative. Also, I admit that it was a little self indulgent, and I just wanted to write her being a little evil XD. Link is a different story. I find it hard to ever consider Link OOC when he really doesn't have a character because he doesn't speak in the games and you control his actions. This interpretation of him was different from what I typically do though. I usually try to write him as more mature then this, but I wanted him to be younger than Zelda and insecure so it would be more believable for her to manipulate him. **

**Also, I did originally plan for this to go another way. I thought of writing Zelda running dramatically to his side and healing him in front of everyone, but I knew that's not the Zelda I'm trying to portray. I want her to be someone who is cool headed even in extreme situations. I want her to be someone who doesn't let her emotions rule her actions, and I just thought that this version of her would think it would place her kingdom and her throne in too much jeopardy to do such an act.**

**I hope this makes up for the lack of Ganondorf and the discrepancies between characters you might feel occurred in this chapter. As always, I want to know what you thought, even if you weren't exactly pleased with how this turned out. **

**P.S. I'm not sure if you any of you have read the other GxZ fic I've written called The Brightside of Darkness, but I actually found a picture making fun of it. I actually thought it was funny. If that same person is reading this (I doubt they are) I hope my writing has improved, and if you don't think it has, I hope you at least find it as amusing at you did in the last story :)**


	7. Chapter 7

Taming the Tiger Chapter 7

He drifted. He knew nothing else. He had never known anything else, and he never would know anything else. All was a soft, shapeless blackness that engulfed him. He could feel himself becoming a part of it bit by bit. It ate away at him like a dog gnawing at the last bites of meat on a bone. He was not frightened. Fear was a foreign concept to him. He had known what it was once but could not recall the how or why. In a way, he longed for it to finish him. He wanted to become a part of something instead of this terrible in between, but there was some rebel part of him that was resisting. It continued to burn stubbornly against the other parts of him that were slowly being sucked away into nothing. It would not let go. It would not relinquish.

So he continued to drift and fade away except for that small flame that was too stupid to burn out. In the end, it would go out too. It was only a matter of time. He floated along currents of darkness and spun around in vast expanses of nothingness. His thoughts dimmed until he no longer cared if the flame continued to burn or not. It was only a faint sensation now.

Just when it seemed as if that idiotic ember of life was about to gutter out something touched it. It burst into life as this new source of energy fueled it, burning away the sweet blackness that he had known and filling him with new painful life. The spark grew into a fire that consumed him like kindling. He could feel this intruder keenly. It was overwhelming in its force. It laid everything else around it flat. A voice called out to him, coaxing him to come towards it and embrace it. Its song was like wine and opium and sex all rolled into one. He couldn't resist, and he found that he didn't want to. As he approached it, he felt two lesser songs mingled in with it. Their voices were whispers compared to the chorus thundering in his ears. They hummed for a moment and then were gone. He immediately forgot about them as soon as they left and abandoned himself to the great voice serenading him.

* * *

He hurt. Pain was all he was. He could feel something thumping and something rising, but those things didn't matter in the face of the agony. He didn't care if he had fingers or toes. He could not differentiate one part of himself from another in the sea that he floated in.

There was a noise, a clattering of sounds that he knew should mean something. It sounded like a shriek to him. It tore through his ears until he thought they would bleed from the piercing sound. He didn't want it to happen again. He didn't want more pain. He would make it stop somehow. He would find it and make it stop.

Darkness met his eyes as they roved overhead to spot the source of the terrible sounds. Fear gripped him, and he found that he was afraid of the dark now that he was living again. What if there was only more darkness, but this time he would be separate from it forever? More sounds came, and a new torture was visited upon him. This was one was welcome. Light seared his eyes as his pupils painfully contracted and drank it in.

Something hovered over him and made more noise, but this time it was not was as loud or painful. Slowly, things began to coalesce as his mind started to reshape itself. He realized that the noises had meaning. Words. The thing above him was speaking to him, and it was more than a thing. It was a person.

"Ganondorf?" the person pleaded, voice cracking. He studied this other being with his newly reacquired senses and came to the conclusion that it was a woman. Yes, a woman, and a special one at that.

She repeated the word that he grew to remember was his name. Her brows knit together as she leaned over him until her nose almost touched his.

"Please answer me," she begged.

Something rose in his throat and pressed against his tongue. "Zelda," he rumbled. That one word was like the last stone of a dam tumbling free. His brain buzzed furiously as memories sprouted and flourished. He felt like a bolt of lightning was shooting through him as every nerve in his body seemed to fire simultaneously. He could feel so many thoughts crowding his skull that he thought it would burst from the pressure of them all.

"Oh Goddesses," she whispered as she struggled to maintain her composure.

He watched in fascination as a tear worked its way down her white cheek. For a while, neither one of them spoke but studied each other by the frantic light of a single candle. He could see every minute detail of her face. He could have counted her lashes if he wanted to, but he was too busy etching everything into memory to linger on any one feature of hers for too long. Even the pain seemed to diminish to a dull and constant throbbing.

He struggled to sit up, and the pain came roaring back to life with vengeance. Zelda's concerned expression deepened, and she placed a hand on his chest to force him back down.

"What happened to me?" he wheezed, taking notice of the strange way he was breathing.

The Queen lowered her eyes to his chest. "You died," she whispered.

"What? But then how do I live?" He faintly recalled watching the sun overhead fade and blacken as he felt his mind dying and the blackness grip him. Horror caused a shiver to run through him, and soon he became aware of how cold he was. A quick look around told him that he was in the crypts beneath Hyrule Castle.

"You did not completely die. There was a piece of your spirit still hanging on."

"But how did you do it? What kind of magic did you use?"

"Stay still. I need to heal the wound in your side," she ordered, ignoring his question. She moved around to his other side and bent down to inspect the rent in his skin.

He felt her cool fingers gently press the skin around the wound, sucking in a breath at even that slight touch. "How bad is it?"

She looked up briefly from her work and shook her head. "Goddesses, he skewered you."

"You certainly know how to pick your champions," he said bitterly, recalling the sense of shock and betrayal he'd felt when he had unmasked his murderer.

"That was not my doing," she hissed, her fingers continuing to probe. "That was part of the compromise the Council wanted. If I had not acceded to that you would have been facing twelve men instead of five. If anything it was your fault for wanting to go through with it."

He let out a laugh, the effort of it causing his side to flare with agony. "Is this how you treat a man just brought back from the dead?"

"Is this how you treat the woman who just brought you back?" she quipped before refocusing her attention on his injury.

He said nothing to her response but struggled to lie still while she continued her work. What was she doing anyways? It seemed as if she had been inspecting his wound forever. Warmth touched his skin where her hands were. He looked over and could see a golden light shining from her bare hands. Waves of heat pressed into his side, and he could feel the tissues pull and strain as they knit themselves back together. It was a slow and painful process. Every time he even shifted slightly, Zelda scolded him and returned back to her work. At last, she raised her head from its bent-necked position and gave a sigh of relief.

"It's done," she said triumphantly, wearing a smug look on her pretty face.

He took a deep breath and felt a mild twinge of pain in his side, but nothing compared to what he had been experiencing. "Thank you," he said gravely, holding her eyes with his for a moment.

She made an embarrassed noise before dropping her eyes again to study the floor. "You're welcome."

Silence blanketed them as he watched Zelda's eyes shift around nervously as if she didn't know what she should be doing. What was wrong with her? He had never seen her like that.

"Well, I'll go and bring you some food and water and a blanket. I think you're still too weak to be moved from down here," she said abruptly before turning her back to him and racing off into the gloom.

He let out a deep breath of frustration as he stared at the vaulting ceilings overhead that were lost in darkness. He did not relish the thought of spending anymore time in this place, but as he remembered his struggle to get up, he knew that it would be almost impossible for him to make out of there. The minutes that she was gone drew out into centuries. Every second that ticked by seemed to make the darkness creep in closer towards him as if it wanted to reclaim him. He shivered again from the cold and fear that seemed to engulf the place. Finally, after what felt like a millennium of silence and darkness, he saw a small golden glow making its way towards him and heard the shuffle of muffled footsteps.

The Queen walked towards him wearing a dark cloak with a candle in one hand and a bundle held beneath one arm.

"Here," she said as she sat the bundle on the stone slab next to him, "that's enough food and water to last you for a day or so. I'm not sure how long it'll be before your strength comes back. I've never done this before."

"I should hope not," he quipped, hiding the flash of pain as he turned over on his side to face her.

He saw her give a hesitant half-smile through the flickering light of the candle. He continued to watch and study her as she went about untying the package and laying out his supplies for him. It turned out that she had actually wrapped the food and water in a blanket that he was to use. The whole time she moved her motions remained tense. He could only assume that her discomfort was caused from the fact that she had just raised a man from the dead.

When the food was laid out, she reached into the folds of her cloak and produced a skin of wine and two crude wooden goblets. Unstopping the skin, she poured a healthy measure of the red liquid into each container. "Drink," she ordered, holding her own cup in one hand as she waited for him to obey.

"In any particular reason?" he asked suspiciously as he sniffed it. "You didn't bring me back just to have the pleasure of poisoning me did you?"

She scoffed and took a deep swig of her own to disprove his words.

Following her lead, he reached out with shaky hands and grasped the cup in both large palms. He cursed inwardly as he brought it slowly to his mouth, red wine sloshing over the sides as he did so. He was about to swear and fling the damned goblet across the room in frustration at his own ineptitude when a delicate white hand took it from him.

"Here," she said sternly but gently and tipped it against his mouth.

He blinked in surprise before his instincts took over and his lips parted to let the wine flow over his tongue and down his throat. It wasn't until the liquid had touched his dry mouth that he realized how thirsty he was. He gulped it down in huge swallows until there was nothing but drops left, and even then, he still felt parched. It was intoxicating and not from the alcohol but from the experience. He could not recall having ever tasted anything that rich or exotic, but he knew that it was nothing extraordinary.

"More," he demanded, reaching out with trembling fingers for the empty cup.

She shook her head and dropped the sack of wine onto the floor. "You need water now. I gave you that to warm your blood and possibly help with any pain you might be feeling. You'll make yourself sick if you drink too much of that." She refilled the cup but this time with the glass bottle of water she'd packed with his food.

He stared at it disdainfully for a moment before deciding his thirst was too great and struggled to bring it to his lips. His hands were steadier this time, or at least, they seemed that way. It might have merely been the wine running through his veins. He felt warmer than he had earlier and his joints felt oddly looser. He managed to take a few swallows as Zelda cut up a loaf of bread and a wheel of cheese.

He set the cup down to pick up a slice of bread.

"Eat slowly," she commanded without looking up from her task.

He scowled at her as he resisted the urge to shove the whole thing into his mouth in one huge bit but realized the wisdom of her words. It would not do to make himself sick from overindulgence. It very well might kill him for all that he knew. Instead, he chewed slowly and thoughtfully, trying to savor the strange yet familiar texture of bread. He'd had it before. He knew he had, but it tasted better than anything he'd ever eaten. He swallowed the first bite and paused as a thought occurred to him. "How did you manage to bring my body down here?"

"Magic, of course," the Queen answered nonchalantly.

"I figured that much, but what did you do about the Council? I highly doubt they would let you inter the remains of a thief with that of Hylian Royalty."

"And you would be correct. There was some squabbling after your death as to what should be done with the body. The Council asked me what I thought should be done with your remains, and I replied that I thought they would know better than me. Of course, they played right into my hands. They spent a long while arguing among each other, and while they were doing that, I had them move your body to a cellar. I then snuck away and moved your body here." She finished the last of her slicing and tucked the knife away into an unseen pocket.

"But what did you use to replace my body?" He picked up a slice of cheese and placed it on top of a piece of bread.

"A dead pig," she said sweetly, clearly hoping to get a rise out of him.

He was tempted to take the bait. It would be so easy to go back to the way things were between them, but he knew that that couldn't happen. Things had changed. "I have a feeling I'm supposed to be insulted. I'm just not sure how," he replied, trying to make his tone light but failing.

"Yes, well, it seems that death has made you no sharper," she said in a rushed voice. Her eyes flicked over to the candle and observed how long it had been burning. "I need to get going. They'll start to miss me soon if I do not leave." Her hand started to move towards the candle but stopped as she looked at her surroundings and then at him. "I'll leave the candle with you. Here's the flint for it. I'll be back tomorrow evening."

"You mean you're not going to join me in spending a lovely night among your dead ancestors?"

"I think not." She gathered the rest of her things and held out her left hand palm up in front of her. A small, blue globe of light floated into being. She tossed it carelessly into the air where it lingered just in front of her right shoulder. She turned to leave but then looked over her shoulder at him. "I'm sorry to leave you down here by yourself, truly."

He said nothing but simply watched the darkness swallow her and shuddered.

He did not put the candle out after she left but let it melt down into a stub until it sputtered out. The thought of darkness terrified him now. He dimly recalled what it had felt like to be almost dead. He had _wanted_ to be left there in the darkness, to let himself become a part of it. It now seemed a wholly foreign and alien idea to him. He could never imagine himself thinking such thoughts. He had always held onto life vigorously, some might say greedily. He could always imagine something else beyond every horizon. There was always something waiting to be accomplished, and the thought that he would go quietly into the void frightened him.

When the candle did at last die out, he found he could not sleep. He did not want to sleep for the same reason that he did not like the dark. The same stupid fear that he would go drifting back into that grim place between life and death kept him from shutting his eyes for more than a few moments at a time. The hours ticked by slowly and his mind wandered down different paths.

He felt strange he realized in the early hours of the morning as he fought off sleep. For a man who had literally come back from the dead, he felt surprisingly well. He still ached from his wound and the healing and the insufferable damp and cold of the tombs, but aside from that, he did not feel as if he had come from death's door. Why was that? Come to think of it, how had she brought him back? He could feel something tugging gently at his mind, but it wouldn't reveal itself yet. Eventually, exhaustion overcame him, and he fell into a reluctant and fitful slumber.

He awoke with a start in the dark and found hunger roaring in his stomach. His hands reached and groped blindly for the food that Zelda had left behind. His fingers grazed a piece of bread. He brought it to his mouth and chewed, wondering what time it was. There was no telling in this place. He had no idea how long he had laid awake in the darkness or how long he had slept.

He thought of going to explore his surroundings to help cure his boredom, but when his legs touched the floor they threatened to give out underneath him. Also, the thought of missing the Queen troubled him. It wouldn't surprise him if she left him down here by himself if he wasn't present when she showed up. She was an odd woman to say the least. She could be both kind and cruel when the mood suited her.

So instead of ambling among the bones of long dead monarchs, he stayed on his horribly uncomfortable stone slab wishing he had at least wine to help pass the time while he waited for the ruler of Hyrule.

After many hours of waiting, she came again. He knew now that it was late at night. He had heard the bell toll for the midnight hour some time ago. Her approaching presence was announced by the welcome sight of a bouncing ball of pale blue light.

The hood of a cloak kept her face in shadow and made her look something like a wraith. A basket was looped over one arm with the cork of a wine bottle poking out from underneath the lid. With a shove of her hand, the ball of light floated into the air above their heads and stayed there obediently like a dog awaiting its master.

Silently, she unpacked the things from the basket and laid them out on the stone slab in front of him. Three bottles of potion were lined up before him along with food and a bottle of wine. He picked up one of the delicate glass bottles and turned it in the dim light of the orb. It was a bright red color similar to fresh blood, and it was disconcertingly thick.

"What is this?" he asked, trying to keep the disgust out of his voice.

"It's a red potion," she said matter-of-factly as she continued to arrange his food to her liking.

"I can see that," he drawled as he set it back down and picked up another one. This one contained an odd grey liquid that looked even less appetizing than the first.

"It's a tonic to restore your health and energy. It has no other name besides that."

"And you think it will help?" he asked doubtfully as he set down the second bottle to pick up the last one.

She shrugged in a heavy fall of her cloak. "I am told it works wonders. It's what Link uses on the battle field, and the hedge-witch who sold it to me said it was quite potent."

"Hedge-witches," he spat out the word in contempt. "In other words, an insane old hermit woman who lives in the woods and brews mixtures of goddesses-knows-what to sell them to unsuspecting customers."

"That is a surprisingly accurate description of her," the Queen answered in a pleased voice. He could tell she was hiding a smile.

"You don't honestly expect me to drink this do you?" His stomach was already churning at the thought.

"Yes, I do," she lifted her face to him to let him see that she was serious about the matter. "We cannot afford to keep you down here much longer. I cannot risk sneaking down here every night or so to bring you supplies, and I doubt you want to spend any more time here than you have to."

"You do have a point," he said idly as he picked up the first bottle again. Suddenly, it didn't look that unappetizing. "What are these others for?"

"Those were additional supplements she gave me. You are to drink the red potion before you eat. The grey potion during your meal, and the black one after you eat. It's supposed to help speed up your recovery."

He refrained from gagging at the thought and decided to turn his attention to another problem plaguing him. "Where exactly have you found for me to stay while I recover?"

"There is an old study of my mother's that has long been boarded off. I thought we could store you in there."

"And then?"

She sighed in frustration and cursed as her knife slipped and nicked her fingertip. She lifted the tip of her finger to her mouth and sucked on it for a moment before answering his question. "I haven't thought that far ahead yet. Right now, we just need to focus on getting you better. We'll worry about the rest when we get to it."

"I was afraid of as much," he mumbled as he turned his attention to the food laid out before him.

"At least, I've thought this far ahead. I don't see you spouting any ideas, and don't eat that before you take the red potion. Here." She shoved the bottle into his face.

He scowled at the small bottle but uncorked it and gulped down its contents. He smacked his lips in distaste as the bitter aftertaste settled on his tongue.

The Queen looked on approvingly with her arms folded over her chest and poured him a cup of wine. He took it gratefully and tried to drown out the taste of the red potion.

The rest of the time they spent together was mostly spent in silence. She forced him to take the second potion, which was worse than the first, and then the last potion after he was done eating. The last potion was not nearly as terrible as he had feared. It had almost no taste but an oddly pungent smell like something burned.

"How are you feeling?" Zelda asked a few minutes after he had drained the last bottle.

He paused before speaking to truly assess his condition. He did feel better. His legs felt as if they could hold his weight once again, and the pain had diminished. Still, he felt oddly numbed too. It was like some unseen and rarely used part of consciousness had fallen asleep. You didn't notice it until it was gone. He frowned at this revelation.

"Better," he answered slowly, nodding as he did so.

"Good," she said. "I hope you will be strong enough to leave this place tomorrow so that I can lead you to the study."

"Why don't you use magic to transport me there like you did here?"

She raised an eyebrow as if the answer should be obvious. "It is far easier to move a . . . dead body than a live person."

"Forgive me for my ignorance, it has been so long since I've done magic. I have forgotten some of the rules of it." He could not keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"That is understandable," she said a little too quickly.

He noticed the change in her bearing instantly. Something had spooked her.

As she had done the night before, she picked up all of her things, leaving the rest of the food behind for him and bid him farewell. Once again, he watched her recede into the darkness, but this time there was not even the light of a fading candle to comfort him.

The hours in the dark passed silently and slowly as they had the night before, but this time fear of his own weakness did not hold him back. Much to his surprise, the potions had worked. He could feel strength running through his limbs again, but that strange numb feeling still plagued him.

He slid off of the stone slab and walked slowly around the cool chamber. He didn't go far because he could not see anything, but he wandered simply for the sensation of walking and moving. Even as a child, he had always taken his size and strength for granted. Physical training and athletics had come naturally to him. He remembered dimly being very young and the first things he could recall holding in his hands were a small bow and a horse's reins. Now, he felt like a child all over again, amazed at how his own body responded to his thoughts. He ran his fingers over cold marble pillars and traced the etchings carved into their surfaces. He became so buried in his musings and memories that he lost track of time. Soon he could feel the new energy flagging and sleep weighing him down.

He crawled onto the slab and threw the much-too-small blanket over himself. Begrudgingly, he allowed his eyes to shut. He dreamed of someone calling to him, a woman he thought. It was the sweetest voice he had ever heard. At first he thought she was speaking, and then he realized she was singing. He couldn't make out the words though. They were muffled. He could barely hear the song. He ran and ran. He leapt chasms deep and dark as the mouth of Hell. He forded rivers that made the Zora seem like a stream, but he never got any closer. Always it was heard in the distance. Mocking.

A burning light woke him. He blinked and saw that Zelda was standing over him with an orb of light hovering over her head.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as she stepped away so that he could sit up.

"Better, much better," he mumbled, throwing the blanket off of himself and getting to his feet.

"Good," she murmured as she held her chin in her hand and studied him with shadowed eyes. "Do you think you are strong enough to take on several flights of stairs?"

"I believe so, and if I should tire I'm sure you would carry me the rest of the way."

"I would not account on it. I have enough old men weighing me down at the moment. I don't need another."

"Old? I admit I am not a teenager anymore, but I am far from old."

"Well, you are to me," she said as she turned and started walking deeper into the catacombs.

"How can you even say that?" he mused as he followed her. "You probably don't know my age as I don't know yours."

She glanced back over her shoulder as him, giving him a glimpse of her profile. "I am twenty-two, and yourself?"

Her answer took him a bit by surprise. He had known she was younger than him, but he had always abstractly thought of her as being in her late twenties. He realized it was the way she carried herself. He wasn't accustomed to young women her age being so . . . mature. So cold. So reserved.

He hesitated before he answered. "I am thirty-five."

"So you are old," she answered simply. She led them past a row of sarcophagi with the likenesses of their dwellers carved onto the lids.

"I am only thirteen years older than you," he said frowning, his eyes roved over the arched stone ceilings adorned with carvings of demons and gargoyles.

"_Only_," she scoffed as they turned a corner and met with a warped wooden door. She took a great black iron key from a pocket and shoved it into the lock. With a shriek the lock gave, she pushed the door open with her hand and signaled for him to precede her.

"Yes, only," he said as he slid past her and into the doorway.

She stepped in after him and locked the door behind them. "You'll forgive me, but I think thirteen years is more than a little bit older than me." She mounted the first step and began to ascend.

"You don't get out much, do you?" He allowed her to make it up three steps before starting up the stairs himself. In the convenient light cast by her magical sphere and the small confined space of the stairwell, he found his eyes wandering. He tried to find something to focus his gaze on. His eyes wandered from her shoulders to the middle of her back and then dangerously lower. He tried his best to keep his gaze averted.

"Why do you say that?" she asked casually, completely unaware that he was trying his best to avoid staring at her backside.

"Because," he said, "if you did, you would realize that most women are married to men much older than them than by thirteen years. I've heard of Hylian girls being married at the age of fifteen to men in their sixties." His tone of his voice conveyed his unspoken thoughts on that matter. He had never understood the appeal of it. Oh yes, there were the political possibilities, but why would any man that old want a girl for a wife who was young enough to be his granddaughter? How could two people that far apart in years even relate?

"That is a moot point," she said decisively as she mounted the last step and stood in front of a grey wooden bound with brass.

"Why?"

"Because you and I would never marry." She turned away from the door and looked down at him with unreadable eyes. She looked as if she wanted to say something more, but what could be said?

She only spoke the truth. He knew she only spoke the truth, but for some reason, it hurt. It shouldn't hurt. He knew it shouldn't hurt, not like this. He opened his mouth to respond to that, but his words had run as dry as hers.

After several moments of unbearable silence, he spoke. "Who would you marry then?" He tilted his head to the side and leaned against the side of the stairwell. Someone like the King of Holodrum? Someone like the hero?

Her eyes dropped to the ground and looked around searchingly. "I do not know," she whispered before taking out another key and opening up the door.

They did not speak for the rest of the way. That was fine with him. It allowed his mind to dwell on the unspoken problem of the King of Holodrum. What would they do now? He had no idea how long he had been dead. He did not know what was brewing between Zelda and that man. How had she played her hand? He thought about asking her, but the words stuck in his throat. Best to leave it for now. It would come up eventually.

The Queen took them through dark, narrow corridors that seemed to twine through the walls of the castle like vines of ivy. They climbed flight after flight of steps, and still, he did not feel his strength failing him. He began to think that perhaps she was making it as confusing as she could so that he would not know how to escape. Then again, what did she have to fear from him now? They all believed he was dead, and it was in his obvious best interest to keep them believing that. He could run, but his people would never take him back.

Eventually, they came to a small hidden door set deep into the wall. He could tell from the look of it that it had not been used in years. The keyhole and knob had once been very fine, polished brass, but now they were tarnished with years of neglect. The Queen opened the door and walked in slowly. The lintel was so low that it almost brushed the top of her head. Ganondorf had to crouch to make it under, but thankfully, the ceiling proved to be much higher than the door frame. He stretched gratefully to his full height and looked around him.

The room was larger than his previous chambers, but it was cluttered. Books were everywhere. They were crammed into the shelves lining the walls, into the freestanding bookshelves making a maze in the middle of the room, onto tables and chairs, and into corners. Some of them were so old that they seemed to be decaying before his eyes. Others looked only to be a few years old with lovely binding engraved in gold. Paper was scattered everywhere as well. He could see pages of parchment sticking out from some of the books, and some pages were simply scattered on the floor in front of him.

The furniture had once been of the best quality, but now the cloth was threadbare and sun bleached. Chairs were strewn throughout the room between the shelves, and the tables were shoved beside them or into the corners. He looked up and he could see clear, clean starlight above him streaming in through the one window. It was set into the roof. A thick pane of glass covered it, and he could see a thatch of the roof propped up. The entire room reminded him of nothing more than a beloved garden left to its own devices. He could tell that it had once been a dear and secret place that had been well tended. Now it seemed as if the books, parchment, and furniture had developed minds of their own and moved around the room.

He picked up one of the books laying on a nearby table and read the title. _The History of Sheikah Service to the Royal Family. _He laid it back down and moved to the other side of the room. There were two other doors that led out of the room, but they were locked.

He turned to where Zelda stood studying one of the shelves of books with an intense look on her face.

"You're sure it is safe for me to stay hidden here?" he inquired, trying his best to ignore the numerous questions that kept cropping up in his brain. Where did those other doors lead? Why was there a small, hidden side door? What was Zelda afraid of?

"Quite sure," she answered carelessly as she selected a volume from the shelf and flipped through its pages.

"How can you be so confident?" If he was going to be cooped up in another small space he wanted to know what made it so damn secure.

She looked up from the page she was reading to answer him. "This is my mother's private study. I am one of only a few people who even know it exists. Most of those other people are dead. She had it secretly built without my father's knowledge. As you already know, their marriage was not one of love, so she wanted a hiding place that he would not know about." She shut the book she had been reading and slipped it back into its place.

"How did it get it like this?" he gestured at the mess around them.

The Queen ignored the question and led him over to an area between two tall, heavy bookcases that loomed on either side of them. With a flick of her hand, the ball of light moved until it revealed a pallet laid out in front of them.

"This is where you shall sleep," she said. "Do you think that will be fine?" She turned and stared up into his face.

"Anything would be an improvement compared to where I have slept for the past two nights." He rolled his shoulders at the memory of lying on that hard, cold stone. Truthfully though, it was better than what he had expected. There were at least a dozen pillows of varying sizes piled up around the space and several blankets that seemed like they were thick and soft. He could not tell exactly what colors they all were in the dark, but they seemed like mostly dark, rich shades. It almost reminded him of how he used to sleep in the desert.

"Good, you wouldn't believe how hard it was smuggling out all of those blankets and pillows," she said laughingly.

"You didn't have to," he said seriously, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

She nodded and hugged herself as if against a sudden chill. "I know. Well, I shall leave you to your rest now. I will be back tomorrow with food. You are free to study any of the books you like."

He nodded at her words and silently watched her go.

That night he slept relatively well in comparison to the two nights before. The blankets and pillows were as soft as he had originally thought, and he felt silk and velvet slide beneath his fingertips. Not long after he had lied down, his eyes began to feel heavy, and he let oblivion surge forward.

His dreams were much as they had been the previous night. He heard the strange and seductive singing, but this time it was louder. He could almost make out the words, and it almost seemed as if he might be able to reach its source this time.

The bright slant of sunlight flowing down through the one window pried his eyes open. He got up and wandered over to it. For a long time, he did nothing but stare up into a grey overcast sky. He realized again how badly he wanted out now that his strength was returned. He paced the room; occasionally, kicking over a pile of books in frustration. He tried the other doors he had seen, but they remained stubbornly shut. The original door he had come through was locked as well.

He gave up and decided to sulk in a corner. What would he have done if he had gotten out anyways? Where would he have gone? Come to think of it, how would he have even escaped the confines of the castle without being seen? He had no allies outside of the Queen, and she did not seem to be about to release him any time soon. Though why, he still had no idea. He also had no magic to aid him. He pressed his hand to his chest in an instinctive gesture as if somehow to cover up the hole that he normally felt there when he remembered his fall from power. He narrowed his eyes suddenly in thought. The hole wasn't there anymore, or at least, he could not sense it as keenly. Why? He searched within himself, but could find nothing obviously changed.

His mind was working furiously. The parts fit together somehow. He knew it. That damned Hylian woman was hiding something from him. His thoughts darkened quickly. How typical of her kind. They would lord any and everything they could over another's head. Zelda was as cold and proud as any of her arrogant race. Why had he ever expected any differently from her?

He frowned at the sudden turn of his thoughts. They were getting away from him. She had saved his life, he forcefully reminded himself, and risked her own in the bargain. If anyone ever found out that he was still living and breathing thanks to the queen of Hyrule, no amount of political power in the world would save her.

He pressed his fingers to his temples and sighed. "What has happened here that I am not seeing? What has that woman done?"

By the time she returned in the evening, Ganondorf was starving. He had not eaten since yesterday. She entered through one of the main doors on the other side of the room.

She stepped between the shelves and found him lying on his back reading a history on some long dead king.

"Have I ever told you how incredibly boring Hylian monarchs' biographies are?" he drawled as he let the book drop to the floor and sat up on his elbows. He saw that she was without a cloak this time and clad in her usual style of dress. That must mean her rooms were nearby, possibly even connected to this one by some secret passage.

"No, I don't think so, but then again, I often don't recall many of the things you say," said Zelda offhandedly as she knelt down on one of the blankets and carefully arranged her skirts around her.

"Glad to know my advice is heeded," he responded as he watched her set out the plates and cups.

The clouds had scuttled away earlier that day and bright bars of sunlight were beaming into the room. They gave the whole situation the feel of a picnic. Ganondorf couldn't help it. He laughed at the absurdity of the idea of he and the queen of Hyrule sitting idly on a hillside out in the open and eating together.

"What is so funny?" she said sharply. She took out a loaf of bread, dried meat, three apples, a bottle of wine, and another smaller bottle full of the black potion he had taken the other night.

"Nothing," he answered mildly, taking the plate she handed him.

"It's never nothing with you," she said before pouring them both a cup of wine and beginning to sip on it lightly.

He didn't answer her jibe but decided to eat instead.

The meal carried on in silence as each tried to figure what the other was up to exactly. Ganondorf was busy wondering what Zelda was trying to hide from him, and she was wondering what he had found so funny earlier.

Once again, it came down to Ganondorf to break the silence. "So how are things going with Fillepus?"

"Fine," she answered airily as she turned her attention to an apple.

"Really?" he inquired as he took another sip of wine and rested his elbows on his knees.

"Yes," she said in a harder tone of voice to indicate that he should change the subject.

He made a noise of doubt in his throat and stared into the depths of his cup before he drained it. "Funny, it seems hardly fine to me from the way you're acting."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand to stop her words.

"I know you," he said as he leveled a gaze at her. "I know you far better than any of your idiotic Councilors or fawning sycophants or that boorish Fillepus. I believe I know even know you better than your little hero does. So please spare me the façade, it does you no good."

He watched in smug satisfaction as color rose in her cheeks. He had always found it funny how red Hylians' faces turned when they were angry or embarrassed. He couldn't tell which it was with her.

"How do you presume to know me so well as to read my thoughts and actions as if they were a part of some book?" she hissed. She slammed her cup of wine down and sent several drops sloshing over the side and onto her face.

"Because I once was you, milady," he said coolly as he leaned forward and wiped the drops of wine off her face with his thumb.

She sat there frozen with a mixture of surprise and horror mingling on her face as his thumb grazed over her cheeks and forehead. When he had collected all of the wine, he put his thumb to his lips and sucked the wine off.

"You think me so much older than you, but not so very long ago, I was a young and unsure ruler like yourself. I was given a kingdom that did not wholly trust or support me and was expected to do the best I could with it. I see through your ruse because I felt very much the same as you do, though I did not employ the same tactics as you do to cover up my feelings," he continued. The red slowly seeped from her face, and she returned to her natural pallor.

"You want the truth of it then?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

He nodded.

"Well then, I shall tell you when you drink your potion." She thrust the small bottle of black liquid at him.

His lip curled into a sneer. "No, I am feeling fine. I don't need any more of that whatever it is."

Her mouth quirked into a smirk. "You won't continue to feel better unless you take it. I can't afford to have you dying on me again. Not after I put so much work into bringing you back. Now, if you want to know how things truly stand, you'll drink it."

He growled wordlessly and snatched the bottle from her. He turned it around and around between his fingers before he worked up the courage to uncork it and drink it down. The same odd taste and smell accompanied it along with the strange feeling of numbness.

"Happy?"

"Very," she said as she took the bottle from him and put it back into the basket. He saw her mood fall though as she turned her thoughts to the true issue at hand. "They are not going as well as I had hoped. The Council and Fillepus are both putting more pressure on me to be more . . . committed. The Council is demanding an engagement, and Fillepus seems to be demanding a wedding." Her brows drew together in a frown.

"I was afraid of as much. It seems your plan has been working too well." He snatched up an apple and bit into it.

"Yes, I think that is exactly the case. He seems to think I am genuinely interested in him, or if he doesn't believe it, then he doesn't care. I would not be surprised either way." She thoughtlessly dug into the basket and produced a napkin. She handed it to him to wipe the juice from his chin.

He finished chewing and drew the cloth across his mouth before speaking. "I believe now is the time for a distraction."

"A distraction?" she said incredulously. "Goddesses, the man just witnessed a tournament and an execution. I would think that that would be enough to keep him occupied."

Ganondorf winced at the mention of his own death. He could almost feel the sword driving into his guts again. He swallowed the phantom pain down and thought for a moment. "If it were any other man I would agree with you. However, it seems the King of Holodrum is a particularly driven and single minded creature. If he is allowed to dwell on anything too long, nothing will deter him from that path.

"Well, then what do you suggest?" she asked over the rim of her goblet. She took a long swallow before setting it down carefully on the floor again.

"A ball."

"A ball? You're serious?"

"Perfectly," he said as he took another chunk out of the apple.

"Fine, then a ball, it is, but it will take weeks possibly months of planning. Goddesses, and the expenses." She cast her eyes downward and bit on a thumbnail, already thinking of the costs and many minute details.

"I'm sure you can put something together sooner than that."

She frowned at him in answer. "You obviously have no idea what this entails."

"It will go much quicker if you allow him to collaborate with you. Say it's in his honor or some such nonsense. It'll keep his mind occupied, and he seems like the kind of man who likes control."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Funny, that sounds like someone else I know."

"Hmm," he murmured as he finished off the apple in three quick bites. "I think I should attend as well."

"No," she said in a dead voice. Her face became still and composed as she stared at him. "I mean it. The last time you wanted something like this you died. How do you expect to get away with this? It's insane."

"Make it a masquerade ball," he said offhandedly.

"You're a fool if you think a mere costume would disguise you."

"Oh no, I think more than a mere costume is needed. I'm sure there is some sort of magic you could employ for the occasion."

She sighed in frustration and defeat. "I could, but I won't."

He said nothing but stared at her as innocently as a face like his could manage, which was a surprising amount.

"You're not going to let this go are you?"

"No," he answered.

"Damn."

**Here you have it! Sorry, I haven't updated in forever but this semester was terrible. It seemed like there was always a paper or a test due. I'm sorry if you're disappointed with this chapter. I admit it is a bit of a filler, but I figured with all of the excitement of the past two chapters, some filler was due. Besides, I've been wanting to do the ball idea for a while. I'm thinking there are only about another two to three chapters left in this story before I wrap it. Well, as always, I would love to know what you thought.**


	8. Chapter 8

Taming the Tiger Chapter 8

**I don't own the Legend of Zelda. As a note of warning, some readers may want to skip the later part of this chapter due to mature subject matter.**

"Turn around," she ordered in a stern voice.

Ganondorf did as she commanded, lifting his arms as he did so.

She sighed in frustration, and he saw her run a hand through her hair.

"Might I ask what is it that displeases you, Your Majesty?"

She shot him an angry glance, quickly reading the sarcasm lacing his words. "You know what displeases me, not that you care."

"Of course, I care."

"Oh please," she replied as she walked a slow circle around him, "spare me your games today. If you truly cared you wouldn't insist on coming to this disaster you're forcing me to plan."

"I would hardly call it a disaster." He dropped his arms to his sides. "It has kept the king away from you, has it not?"

"Yes," she answered begrudgingly, "but that is only a temporary fix."

He shrugged. "That is all we can do. We can only buy you more time. I hate to say this, but I feel as though in the end war will be inevitable."

She wearily shook her head in displeasure at the thought. "I know. I know. Believe me, you do not need to remind me of it, but why? Why must you come?"

"In order to advise you," he said simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She scoffed in disgust. "I think I have learned how to handle him by now."

He raised an eyebrow in question. "Forgive me for speaking so boldly, but if you did then we would not be here now."

Her scowl deepened. "I will not forgive you because you are not sorry. At least, not in that sense."

"You wound me."

"I only wish." Her hand flew out and snatched several strands of hair from his head.

"Dammit," he hissed as his fingers came up to massage his scalp. "Why did you do that?"

"For the same reason I'm going to do this." She held up a small, sharp knife in her right hand and sliced him across the forearm before he could stop her.

He bit the inside of his cheek against the pain and watched in mild fascination as she caught the drops of blood welling from the injury in a tiny glass vial.

"And what would that reason be exactly?" he growled.

"If you want to come you'll need a disguise and a simple cloaking spell won't do. I'm going to need to concoct something more potent. That means I'm going to need the proper ingredients. More than likely it will comprise of an extremely horrible tasting potion you'll have to ingest."

He grimaced in distaste. "I look forward to it."

"You should," she said examining the small glass vial, "you brought it on yourself."

"What is it exactly you had in mind for disguising me as?"

She shrugged, a careless shifting of her shoulders that made her golden hair ripple. "I'm not sure yet. I'm considering several possibilities."

"They would be?"

"None of your business," she said coldly, eyes running up and down the frame of his body like he was a rack of meat on display at a butcher's stall.

He found it oddly amusing and insulting that she was able to stare at him like that without even the slightest flicker of passion in her eyes. He had always known that his face was not considered handsome by Hylian standards, but he was used to evoking a different reaction from women when it came to his body. He was tall, broad shouldered, and heavily muscled. All of these traits he had found to be rather persuasive when it came to getting someone of the female gender to warm his bed for the night. The women of his own tribe had openly admired his body, and they were not easily impressed. It hurt his ego to see a Hylian queen regard him with so little sexual interest.

"Well then," he replied smugly, "I will trust that you know the best answer to the problem."

She turned away and headed for the small door leading out. "I will figure something out." She sighed heavily.

Several more days passed. Zelda brought him meals when she could and left him enough food when she could not. He read a great deal of books on many things. It seemed that the previous queen had had quite a voracious appetite when it came to books. He even found several written in his tongue. Sometimes he would find scraps of papers tucked between the pages with slanted, elegant handwriting on them. He found one piece in particular fascinating. It was a list of dates marking important events in young Zelda's life. It listed the day she spoke her first word, took her first step, crawled for the first time. The most surprising part was that it reinforced the idea that the seemingly impervious Queen had at one point in her life been an infant. It was almost impossible for him to imagine her as a baby being held in her mother's arms.

One day while they were dining on a meal she had brought up from the kitchens he worked up the nerve to ask her. "What was your mother like?"

He watched her as her hand stilled and her face went smooth as white marble. "Why do you ask?" she said guardedly.

"I was simply curious."

She gave him a suspicious glance before buying herself some time by taking a swallow of wine. "She was my mother."

"And?"

"And that is all you need to know." She went back to eating.

"She was very devoted to you," he said offhandedly as he brought a bite of meatpie to his mouth and began to chew.

Her eyes glanced up from her drink. "How would you know that?"

He shrugged. "Just something I found." He produced the small note from a nearby shelf where he had hidden it.

She snatched it from his fingers and read over it several times before looking back up at him. "Where did you find this?" she asked in a hard voice.

"In a book."

"Which book?"

"I can't remember. As you can see, your mother had many. I've been looking through them." He gestured around to shelves lined with tomes and volumes.

Her eyes narrowed at him as she tucked the bit of paper away into one of her many hidden pockets.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "No reason, I simply wanted to know."

"Really?" Her tone of voice said she sincerely doubted his answer.

"Yes," he said slowly, "I thought we had moved past this. Honestly, how could I use your dead mother against you?"

"Perhaps you're trying to worm your way into my good graces, gain my sympathy, use some weakness of mine against me." He could tell from the way she was squirming that he had already done several of those things. She had brought him back from the dead and yet she still treated him as an enemy. It made no sense, and even less so, since she seemed to be a highly logical creature.

"It sounds as if you have put a great deal of thought into this. I could do any of those things, but what would they gain me? Nothing. I have no kingdom or power, Zelda. I am wholly at your mercy." A bitter taste flooded his mouth as he spoke those last words. He did not like to admit it, but it was true. Without her protection, he was nothing. He was as good as dead without her. If only he had his Triforce of Power back, that would certainly tip the scales in his favor. He shook his head against the thought. There was no point in thinking about it.

"So you are," she said thoughtfully. "My mother was . . . " she hesitated and rolled her eyes towards the ceiling as she thought on the matter, "my mother was very different from me. She was a very volatile woman. I believe that is why she and my father did not get along. She was very impulsive but kind. I remember that. She always had some little surprise for me. She used to call me her little sparrow." A smile graced Zelda's face as she lost herself in the memory. Then it melted like morning frost. "That is enough reminiscing. Time for your tonic." She produced the usual glass bottle full of the black potion.

He made a face but took it without complaint. It had become part of their routine. Even when Zelda could not get food to him, she always left him two or three bottles of the stuff for him to drink on his own. He unstoppered the bottle, put it to his lips, threw his head back, and drank. As always, it was accompanied by an odd taste and the usual numbness that pervaded his chest and limbs. Not for the first time, it occurred to him that this simple tonic was more than what the Queen claimed it to be. He would ask her about it sometime, but not today. He was on treading on thin ice as it was. "She sounds like an interesting woman. It is a pity I never got the opportunity to meet her."

Zelda nodded in agreement. "Yes, it is a loss for anyone. Now as you know the ball is approaching."

"Really? So soon, it seems that time has slipped past me once again. It is a tricky thing, time."

"If you still intend to attend, we must lay out some ground rules." Her face showed that she would make no compromise on them.

"Alright, what did you have in mind?"

"It is simply really. I want you to be discreet and stay unnoticed. You are not to attract attention to yourself in anyway. For the sake of things, I have made it a masquerade ball."

"Ah," he said sadly, "and here I was hoping to be the center of attention. It has been a long time since I have danced and sang and drank like a fish."

She narrowed her eyes at him and pinched her pretty face up into a tight knot. "Do not joke about this. You know better than that. If you were to die a _second _time, I do not think I would be able to bring you back. Most likely because I will have lost my own."

He pressed his hand to chest in mock injury. "You know there is nothing that I like less than the thought of thought of you in pain or your precious blood being spilled." Indeed, many times he had fantasized on how to dethrone her, but oddly, he had never thought of how to dispose of her. He had always vaguely known he would kill her in battle, but he had never planned it out. Now he found that he truly did not like the thought of her in distress or pain unless it was of an entirely different nature. He turned away from the thought. That was dangerous ground. He was slowly coming to realize how long it had been since he had been with a woman. It would not do to think of her in that light when it seemed as if she harbored no such sentiments herself.

"I'm sure," she said sourly. "Anyways, I have cobbled together a spell that I think might do the trick. I will return the night before the ball to perform it. Do you think you are up to?"

"I am up for anything your wicked little mind might come up with, milady." He allowed a smile to curl his lips.

"Good," she answered as she got to her feet, taking the basket with her. She said nothing else before she left through the small hidden door.

She came three nights later, coming in the dead of night through the secret entrance. He awoke instantly at the sound of a door shutting, feeling his whole body tense. He went into a crouch amidst his piles of pillows and blankets and readied himself for whatever might come around the bookshelves. He knew it was probably only Zelda, but those years of training among his sisters had not been for nothing.

When he first saw her it was by the fitful shadows cast by the single candle she carried. She wore a dark cloak that covered her from head to toe with a deep hood thrown over her face. She looked like a dark wraith that had come to claim his soul for his some sin of his past, which one he wasn't quite sure. There were many. She said nothing to him but stooped down and placed a basket that clinked softly on the floor.

When she threw back the cowl of her cloak, her hair was white blonde in the light, and it seemed as if her eyes flashed from their usual violet to crimson for an instant. Her face itself seemed transformed from before. Her cheekbones were sharper and more exotic, her chin more pointed, and her eyes strangely slanted. He could now clearly see the Sheikah in her. Her mother had been half, so that would make her a quarter. She seemed more than a mere fourth in the darkness of the room. Even the tiny skylight provided no illumination, clouds had rolled in to cover the meager light of the moon.

"Are you ready?" she whispered as she proceeded to set out her supplies. He watched in yearning and fascination as she set out tiny bottles full of dark liquids, a bowl of silver, a mirror, and long, slender wand made of a type of wood that he did not recognize. Last, she pulled out a knife from her sleeve. It was plain but ceremonial at the same time. He could see runes etched into the steel of the blade.

He nodded wordlessly and crawled forward on his knees to get a better look at her.

She looked up at him with wide, owlish eyes. "You must understand something. I have never done a transformation spell this complex. I have changed the color of skin, hair, and eyes before, but this is new to me. There is risk involved in it. How much I cannot say. Do you still agree?"

He picked up the knife and tested its tip with his finger. A small drop of blood welled up. He nodded. "Yes, I trust you."

She smiled bitterly. "Then you are a very brave fool, Ganondorf."

He looked away from the blood on his fingertip to her face again. "Or perhaps I am simply more knowledgeable of your abilities then you are."

She shrugged and took the knife from his grasp, laying it straight in front of her. She took a flask of water from somewhere and poured it into the bowl. She leaned over into it, murmuring words as she did so and a faint light shone from it. Images moved and flashed across the surface. They looked like kaleidoscopic images to Ganondorf, but she seemed to be able to make some sense of them. He watched her lips move silently in a language he did not know. She reached out and grabbed two of the three bottles in front of her. She read their labels carefully in the fitful light and then dumped them into the water. The light intensified for a moment and then it changed to a deep shade of red.

"Come here," she commanded with a crook of her finger.

He leaned forward cautiously. Her fingers took hold of a strand of his long red hair and plucked it out. She then held it to the flame of the candle and let it curl up and burn between her fingertips. The whole time her eyes did not waver from the images the bowl produced. She added another small vial of something and waited with her eyes locked on the bowl in front of her. The images flooded it again. She touched the surface lightly with the tip of one finger, and they abruptly stopped.

"Yes, I think that will do," she murmured to herself. "Hold out your hand."

"You're going to cut me again," he replied in a tired voice.

She nodded. "That is the price you pay for making me do this."

He sighed and held his hand out to her palm up. She took out the dagger and sliced it across his open palm. The blade was so keen he hardly felt anything. The blood seeped up from his hand deep and red. Zelda took the blade and scraped the blood off and into the bowl. It chimed quietly. She nodded again and gestured for him to stand up.

He got to his feet and waited patiently while she stepped carefully around her instruments. The wand was clutched in one slender hand. She walked around him in a slow circle, passing the wand up and down his body speaking softly to herself the entire time.

"What are you doing?" he asked because as boredom stared to set in. His magic had always been flashier than this. It had been big and loud and bold.

"I'm cleansing you," she said.

"And that means what exactly?"

She stopped her chanting and blew out a breath in frustration. "I am removing the remaining stains of your own magic so that mine can take hold. I don't want any interferences." She then went about passing the wand over his right shoulder and then his right arm and leg.

He decided to keep any further comments to himself. She seemed nervous enough as it was. When that was done, she delicately lifted the bowl from the floor and presented it to him. "Drink this," she said as she pushed it into his hands.

He grimaced in disgust. "Goddesses, you can't be serious. I saw you put my own blood into it."

"Do you want to go or not?" she retorted, raising an eyebrow at him.

He growled in agitation. "This is barbaric."

She chuckled. "That is ironic coming from you. Now just drink it."

"Only if you say please," he said haughtily.

"Please," she said through laughter.

"Fine." He reluctantly lifted the bowl to his mouth and let the liquid slide past his lips onto his tongue. It tasted viler than he had imagined. It was spicy and strangely bitter with a tang of metal to it from his own blood. He threw his back and lifted the bowl higher. He drank it down in huge gulps, trying to keep it from touching his tongue. At last, he came to the end of it and handed the dish back to her.

Her face was serious as she set it aside and walked another circle around him, murmuring more strange words that he thought were Sheikah. She picked up the mirror as she started another circuit and moved it up and down his body as she had done with the wand.

He could feel the air growing thick around him. It was like being outside when a storm was brewing. The room was becoming charged with some unseen force. He held out his hand and watched his bronze skin change to a deathly shade of grey. He knew without looking that the color of his hair and eyes were changing as well. Unease began to stir in his stomach. What had he gotten himself into? What if this was nothing more than an elaborate plot to trap him? What if she was turning him into some sort of monstrous servant?

While his thoughts were reeling, he could feel his body began to change and morph into another shape. His shoulders became smaller and his legs shorter. The pain was like that of a sore muscle after too much physical exertion. It ached but it was nothing compared to when he had first awakened from death. His fingers became thinner and shorter, the nails turned long and black. His clothing was hanging off of him in folds. His pants were now far too long and the sleeves of his shirt hung well past his wrists.

He reached up with his foreign fingers and touched his face. The skin felt looser and older. Bags were under his eyes. The last of the tension in the air vanished when Zelda stood in front of him again. She studied him with an air of satisfaction, like an artist admiring her latest painting.

He looked down at his hands again, grey and covered with thick veins. "How long does this last?"

"Forever," she said solemnly.

"What?" Alarm crept into his voice. He couldn't stand the thought of being trapped in this inferior body permanently. He still felt his old strength, but he was hampered by these new stunted limbs.

She laughed, a high ringing note that. "No, it lasts for approximately thirty-six hours if my calculations are right. It would serve you right though if it were permanent."

"Hand me the mirror."

She gave it to him. He held it up to his face and turned his head this way and that. New wrinkles appeared from every angle he looked. His face was the same color of grey as his hands. His eyes were hard and black. His hair was cut close cropped to his head. It was nothing more than a black fringe. "I'm hideous," he said at last.

"Well, there are some things no amount of magic can change," she quipped as she set about putting her magical things away.

He rolled his eyes. "What am I to wear?" He lifted the now much-too-large shirt out in front of himself.

"Don't worry, I will come by tomorrow with your costume."

He slept through fitfully through the rest of the night. The same dream plagued him as it had the night before. The sweet, distant voice returned, but it was fainter than he recalled it ever being. It was no more than a whisper on the wind that swept through the fields of his mind. He pursued it relentlessly and to once again no avail.

He awoke late that day and ate some of the food the Queen had left for him. This time though there was no bottle of the black liquid she usually left for him to take. He was not saddened by this. Perhaps it meant she thought he had recovered enough to do without it now or maybe she thought it would interfere with the spell she had cast. Either way, he was not sorry for its absence. The numbness it created had become more agitating. Throughout the day as he waited for her return, he found it slowly dissipating, and he almost felt normal by the time evening came. He passed the time by reading and thinking on what exactly he would do once he was at the ball. If he could simply get his hands on some sort of poison, he might be able to slip it into the king's drink and solve both of their problems. Or he might be able to use the opportunity to reconnect with some of his faithful followers. He had had several spies within the Hylian court and as far as he knew, they had not been found out yet. The wheels of his mind turned, but ultimately, no plots or schemes came to mind. He would simply have to figure it out as he went along. He had no idea what resources would be available to him. His death had been the best thing to happen to him and the worst. He was no longer being hunted like an animal, but that meant he could not reveal himself to those he originally might have. He could not let it be found out that Zelda had resurrected him. He owed her that much. As cold as she could be towards him and no matter how she vexed him, he had developed a strange loyalty to her.

He watched stars wink into existence above his head and evening descend. The sky was just darkening into velvet black when he heard a door creak open. This time she entered by one of the two main doors on the opposite side of the room. He heard her heels clack on the floor as she maneuvered herself around the books, chairs, and tables.

When she appeared in the narrow aisle between the two shelves where he stood, he could see a bundle of clothing in her arms. It took him a moment to recognize her. She was already in full costume. Her long hair had been dyed the color of the sky at twilight, a deep shade of peaceful blue. Golden armbands encircled her upper arms and golden necklace hung at her throat. Her dress was light and flowing in two different shades of blue and a circular lyre was held underneath her free arm.

"And who are you supposed to be?" he asked.

"You don't recognize me?" She twirled in the starlight, her jewelry tinkling quietly.

He shook his head, unnerved at the loss of his hair.

"I'm Nayru," she answered.

"The goddess?"

"Yes, of course, I found it only fitting since I am the carrier of Wisdom."

He raised his eyebrow at the comment but said nothing in response. "My people are not terribly familiar with the other two goddesses. We primarily worshipped Din."

She nodded in understanding. "Well, I did consider masquerading you as her but that seemed too close to blasphemy for my taste. Besides, I think you would make a hideous woman."

He rolled his eyes and held out his hands for her to deposit the clothes into them. A red robe was dropped into his arms along with a matching hat and veil for his lower face. He unfolded the robes and observed that a symbol of an eye was stitched in purple onto the front that looked dangerously like the Sheikah Eye of Truth.

"What is it that I am going as exactly?"

"A _nazgrudt_, which is an ancient Sheikah sorcerer and sometimes priest. They served many purposes in the tribe, or so I was told."

He gave an unhappy sigh as he eyed the cap and veil.

"It was the only plausible disguise I could come up with that would allow you to be so covered. I do not want to take even the slightest chance tonight. I want it to be so that not even your own mother would recognize you." She crossed her arms in front of her chest and tilted her head from side to side to check her handiwork again.

"You have no need to worry about that, I doubt my mother would recognize me at all given what you've turned me into, even if she were not dead."

A few awkward heartbeats passed as Ganondorf waited for her to leave.

"What?" she questioned. "You don't expect me to allow you to roam around my castle as you please, do you? No, I will escort you down to the ball through the secret passages and then be on my way."

"Fine," he said coolly, "but would you mind perhaps turning your back at least to give me some privacy while I dress?"

She laughed. "I thought you would revel in the chance to engage in such a voyeuristic activity."

He looked down at his diminished and newly twisted body and felt loathing bubble up. He had never realized how vain he was until then. "Normally, you would be correct and grateful for the opportunity, but given my current state," he gestured to himself, "I do not think the site will be pretty."

Her lids lowered as she tried to contain another chuckle. "Believe me, it was only in your best interest. It is sad but true that ugly people generally tend to be ignored more than attractive people."

"I don't think it was only your charitable nature that inspired you to give me this form."

"Perhaps," she said airily as she turned her back to him so that he could dress.

He grumbled to himself as he pulled his tunic off and undid his breeches. He did not dare look at himself as he undressed so he quickly dragged the red robes over his head and secured the cap and veil. The robes were loose and voluminous as he supposed she intended them to be. The hat was a bit tight and the veil was too thick for his liking, but he could not deny that it did cover him from head to toe. He cleared his throat to signal the Queen that she could look once again.

She spun on her heel and a smile lit up her face. It was cruel and jagged but beautiful in its way. It displayed the mobility of her features and proved that she could indeed manage a smile. It made her seem younger. It made her look her age. Between the impish grin she wore and her attire, she truly looked like a mischievous goddess fallen from a distant star. For a moment, he believed that they were the chosen avatars of the Three like some claimed. The thought caused a twitching deep in his chest like an animal stirring in its sleep. He resisted the urge to glance at the Queen suspiciously. Something was afoot here. He just did not know what yet.

"Come," she said and gestured for him to follow her.

He obeyed, and she led him through the small doorway—he did not have to hunch so much now—and down the narrow flight of steps. From there on, she took a twisting and turning path different from the one that had led him there, though it was hard to tell in the dim light. When at last they exited the tunnels, he found himself in a servant's passageway. Laughter and talking could be heard through the thick stone walls. It seemed as if he was just on the other side of the hall.

"Now," she said seriously, all laughter from her face gone, "go through this door and get swept up into the crowd. Do not introduce yourself to anyone unless specifically asked. If asked give as vague an answer as you can."

"You mean you haven't thought up a backstory for me?" he asked maliciously, enjoying the way her face twisted up in anger.

"No," she replied stiffly, "I did not have time between devising the spell, your disguise, and organizing this hideous thing. I have enough confidence in your wits that you will be able to think something up. Do not disappoint me."

He gave a mocking half-bow. "I would never dream of it."

Her lips quirked into a smirk. "No, you wouldn't because if you did it would mean both our heads. Like I said, be discreet and quiet. I want no trouble from you."

"And if I should have need to speak with you?"

She let out a huff of frustration. "Then find me, but try and be unnoticeable about it. I will be speaking to many different people tonight, so it shouldn't be hard to do that."

He nodded in understanding and watched her make her way down the hall towards the front entrance of the great, long room. He waited a few moments as he gathered his wits about him before opening the door and slipping into the mass of people. He found it wasn't hard at all to go unnoticed. The room was filled to bursting with other guests.

He dodged the dancing couples and jugglers and acrobats. There was even a fire breather spewing flames in one corner of the room. She had truly spared no expense. He took a goblet of wine off of a server's tray and sipped on it lightly as he took in the sights and sounds around him. One drunken noble man bumped into him. He mumbled a quick apology and dashed out of the way. He spent a good deal of the night simply trying to stay out of everyone's way and for the most part went unobserved. No one paid him any heed, and he marveled at his own invisibility. He was used to being noticed and stared at and talked about. This new anonymity was both exhilarating and daunting.

It was not until a few hours had passed in the night that he felt something strange and familiar flowing through his veins. He could not name its source but it seemed right. He felt stronger than he had in months. He felt as if he could turn aside the Queen's hard wrought spell with a mere thought. He felt as if he could shatter the thick stone walls with the force of his will. He paused in his stroll through the hall to lean against a wall to take inventory of himself. He searched inside of himself and found that faint voice that had haunted his dreams for the past few nights. This time it was as loud and brazen as the call of trumpets. It sang and screamed through him. It begged him to take hold of it and ride the currents.

He spotted the Queen, Filepus, and Link standing together idly sipping on their drinks. He had known where to find them. He simply had been able to sense their presence. His eyes narrowed in thought. No, it was not the Queen or the Hero that he sensed. It was their pieces of the Triforce that called out dimly to him. They echoed inside the recesses of his malformed chest. They pierced him to his heart.

His eyes widened in surprise as he stumbled across a revelation. He withdrew his left hand from the folds of his robes and studied the back of it in the shimmering light of chandeliers and candlesticks. He could make out the faint outline of his piece of the Triforce again, something he had not been able to do for some time now.

_Goddesses,_ he cursed in his head, _my piece has returned to me. _The wheels of his mind spun furiously as things started to fall into place: the numbness in his chest, the dreams, the potion, and the missing dosage. He chuckled deep in his throat. She had restored his piece to him. He had no doubt. The potion had been to mask its presence and without taking it he could feel it again.

He made a fist with his left hand, flexing his rediscovered magic. He could hear a chiming noise tremble in the air around him. Link grew restless and looked about him. Zelda looked up from her cup and immediately found his gaze.

He realized that he could destroy them all then if he wished it so. He could bring the roof tumbling down on their very heads. He could kill the Hero and the Queen in one fell, devastating swoop. He smiled at the thought but then it turned into a grimace. Likely now, if he did that he would kill himself in the process. His power was fresh and untried. His body was too weak to conduct so much magic.

He held the Queen's gaze and tilted his head towards a dark corner. He watched as she politely excused herself and made her way over to the shadowy bit of the room. He waited several heartbeats before making his way there himself.

He found her tapping her foot impatiently against the floor and restlessly manipulating the folds of her dress. Now that he could more fully see the power of her piece, she seemed more ethereal than ever. An aura of gold shone around her like a halo. Gold pulsed from her in waves as his piece agitated hers. She knew he knew.

"What?" she asked hurriedly, downing the rest of her drink for liquid courage.

"You think I wouldn't know?" he whispered darkly, his fury barely contained. How dare she? It was his by right. He had every right to know that his inheritance had been returned to him. The little bitch.

Her eyes fell to the floor. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and looked at him haughtily. "I had hoped this wouldn't happen. How did it?" She cocked her head to the side like a bird.

"You forgot to give me the black potion the other day." He smiled evilly, feeling more like himself.

Her lips curled into a sour frown. "I was afraid that would happen. I have been so caught up in preparing this terrible thing that it slipped my mind."

"So you are fallible?" he quipped.

"Of course, I am. I am mortal," she admitted.

"Then why do you clothe yourself as a goddess?"

"For spite," she answered truthfully, setting her cup in a gloomy alcove.

"Did you also keep this knowledge from me for spite as well?" He tried to keep his voice calm and controlled as he knew he should, but he was so angry. The very thing that he had longed had been hidden from him. He had felt torn at its loss. He had been broken, and all because of this woman.

She paused before speaking, considering him carefully. "I did it because I was afraid of how you would use it. I was afraid you would use it against me. Was I wrong?"

He said nothing but growled in anger and turned away from her. He did not answer her because he could not. Part of him was tempted to lie and say that the thought had not crossed his mind, but Zelda was no fool. He considered telling her that he had thought of using it against her. Instead, he settled for a stubborn silence.

She sighed and turned away. "If that is all you have to say to me, I will return to my guests. Make sure to stay out of the way."

"I should kill you," he threatened, his fingers curling into fists.

She looked over her shoulder at him and raised an arched brow. "Are you so certain that you could?"

"Yes," he bit out, "you have no army to stand behind you this time, and I will not underestimate the boy again."

"You are still making one fatal error," she whispered as a dagger materialized in her hand, "you are underestimating me."

He fought back a laugh deep in his throat. "And what could you do? You are a scared and fragile little girl, barely capable of holding your kingdom together."

Her expression twisted into one of anger. She took a menacing step forward and pointed the tip of the dagger towards his throat. "Do not question my ability to rule. At least, I still have my kingdom. The same cannot be said for you. You are a disposed king with no followers and your own people curse your name for your greed and stupidity. You have no idea what I am capable of."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "And that would be?"

She sucked in a breath and the tip of the dagger gleamed wetly with a strange liquid, quite clearly poison. That unearthly presence that had seemed to enshroud her the night she cast the spell returned again stronger. "I am Sheikah as well as Hylian. You would do well not to forget that."

"A mere fraction," he said cruelly.

"A fraction it may be, but it is enough to kill you, and enough to raise you from the dead." Her eyes darkened into amethysts that glistened like the sharp edge of her blade. Shadows seemed to coalesce in the hollows of her eyes and cheeks until it was like looking at a skull with glittering jewels for eyes.

"Why did you do it?" he asked suddenly, the question piquing his interest.

"What?" she said, taking a step back, returning to her normal self.

"Why did you revive me? Why not leave me dead?"

She raised her chin haughtily as if the question was so obvious it was beneath her to grace it with an answer. "This is not the time or place to talk of that." She turned to go.

He reached out with one twisted, grey hand and clutched at her hand. The white skin of her arm was warm and smooth beneath his. "Tell me," he urged.

Something in her eyes softened and almost became vulnerable. The dagger disappeared into wisps of shadow. "Do not make me say it."

"Later," he said as he let go of her arm. He was still restless for answers, and angry but he would get nothing from her this way. "We still have other things to discuss."

"Such as?" She took three steps away from him.

"What are we going to do about your suitor?" He nodded his head towards the small crowd gathered around the King of Holodrum. Currently, the man was smiling and laughing politely while the others tittered around him. He was adept at charming a crowd. They seemed to hang on his every word.

She shook her head wearily. "I do not know. I thought perhaps you had some sort of plan. I thought there was a reason why you wanted this whole thing."

"I wanted it to observe him some more. Our first meeting was not very informative. You say he has quite the appetite for women?"

She frowned at the thought. "If his behavior towards me is any indication, then yes. It seems he is quite fond of female company."

Ganondorf tilted his head thoughtfully to the side and pondered on the idea for a moment. He could feel something coming to life. He would deal with Zelda later. It did him no good if he disposed of her and then had to face Fillepus. Besides, the little man might just use it as an opportunity to seize Hyrule for his own. "Is he a heavy drinker?" he asked.

The Queen shook her head.

"That poison you conjured on the edge of your dagger just now, what else could you produce from thin air like that?"

She mulled it over for a moment before shrugging. "I'm not sure. I do not believe it is a wide range. Poison, smoke shields, mostly stealth, defensive magic."

He nodded irritably, going over his knowledge of potions in his mind. For once, he was grateful that he had been tutored by those two old mad witches Koume and Kotake. "Give me your wine," he commanded.

She took it from its place in the alcove and handed it to him.

He stared into its depths, studying its contents. He took a deep breath and focused his returned magic to a fine point. This was much different then what his piece of the Triforce had been designed for. It was much more subtle and delicate. It was women's magic. He could feel the molecules of the wine buzzing inside the cup as he manipulated them and reformed them. He broke their bonds and remade them into something more similar to what he had in mind. His teachers had taught him the properties of plants and how many of them could be used to make tonics and potions.

Sweat broke out on his forehead as he concentrated. Zelda stood on in amused silence as he stared into her wine cup. He mumbled a few words of blessing for the Goddess of the Sands to seal it and then handed it back to the Hylian woman.

"What did you do to it?" She asked as she turned the cup in her hand and sniffed it.

He wiped the long sleeve of his robe across his forehead. "I have changed it. Do not drink it. Do you think perhaps you could mix some of that into his wine?"

"Is it poison?" she said suspiciously.

"Would you care if it were?"

"If we kill him tonight, they will know it was us. I care nothing for the man, but I will not have his death placed on my head whether I am responsible for it or not."

"It will not kill him. I simply need you to slip some into his wine, not much. Then dispose of the rest somehow. Can you do this?"

She nodded. "I think so, but what will it do to him? What are you planning?"

"Leave the rest to me. You will see."

"Why should I trust you?"

He smiled behind the veil he wore. "Because, milady, you have few better choices and many far worse."

"This had better work," she grumbled as she moved away from him and back into the crowd.

He watched her work her way through the people towards Filepus's side. Ganondorf drew himself into a corner to get a better angle to observe her from. He gritted his teeth impatiently as she chatted with the others, smiling and laughing at just the right moments. The King of Holodrum looped an arm through hers and murmured something into her ear. She smiled slyly but said nothing back. Her eyes lowered just the way he had taught her. She was using all the small and subtle tricks he had drilled into her. It was amazing to see it in action. The Queen of Hyrule was flirting and doing a good job. She even slipped the Hero a coy smile that turned his face so red Ganondorf could see it from where he was. He sneered in the darkness. It was pathetic to think that he had been defeated by such a green boy who was unmanned by a smile from a beautiful woman.

Several agonizing minutes passed that grew into an hour as he waited for her to make her move. He watched as Filepus drank the last sip of his wine. The Queen graciously offered to get him another glass. He nodded, and she turned to find a waiter to flag down. A few minutes later she returned with a full goblet of wine. He had not been able to see whether or not she had poured some of her own drink into his, but he could only rely on luck at this point. There was no way he could go near her now.

With the first part of his plan executed, he stepped out of the dark and wound his way through the sea of people. He listened carefully to the conversations going on around him. Sometimes he even politely interjected. Most of the conversations proved to be useless for what he had in mind. He was looking for a particular type of person. Most of the young women at the ball were all too formal and proper for what he was seeking. Then he spotted her.

She was young, only seventeen if he had to guess, but her body was that of a full grown woman. He could tell from her perfectly painted smug mouth and the way she hid her face coquettishly behind a fan that she was just what he was looking for. Her hair was a long mass of strawberry blonde spiral curls that were mounded fashionably on top of her head. Her blue eyes were lined with kohl and her cheeks had just the right amount of rouge to set off her fair skin. Her dress was too tight to seem proper, and he had no doubt that she had intended for it to cause a scandal among the other women. The neckline plunged low and her shoulders were bared. The sapphire shade of the fabric was stunning on her. She was everything he needed for his plan: young, beautiful, and most importantly, ambitious. This was the kind of young lady who fed off of the fear and excitement that she bred in others. He knew that to her there was no such thing as bad publicity.

He studied her from a distance for a moment as she chatted with her comrades. How was he to approach her in his currently hideous form? He glanced around the room and down at himself. Was he capable yet of disassembling Zelda's spell and creating his own disguise spell? No, it was better to do it in a more subtle way.

He managed to insert himself into a conversation nearby. It was mostly middle-class merchants who thought far too much of themselves in his opinion. He steered the conversation onto the topic of the King of Holodrum. For the most part, they kept their speech polite and vague in case any of the king's followers happened to be listening in, which Ganondorf was sure they were. He then added his part rather loudly so that the young lady could overhear that the king seemed to have a wandering eye.

"He has rather admired that young woman just behind us," he said as he nodded his head towards her. "She is stunning, is she not? I believe I overheard one of his servants say the king thought he could do no better. Indeed, I personally think she rivals the Queen herself in beauty." This made all of the other men around him rather uncomfortable. They nervously took sips of their wine to keep from replying to it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the girl tittering to one of her friends and eyeing the king across the hall. If his timing was correct, enough time should have passed for his little potion to take effect.

The merchants then abruptly changed the topic to the current price of cinnamon in the Bazaar. The girl sauntered away from her circle of friends and threaded her way through the sea of people towards the king. She was a bold little thing, he would give her that. He followed her at a distance to make sure she did not wander from the desired path. He could see that Filepus's face was flushed and his normally rigid posture was beginning to stoop a little. Zelda was nowhere to be seen at the moment. All the better.

The young lady did a curtsy, doing her best to make sure she bent as low as possible to give the best view of her breasts. They caught the eyes of every man in the room including the king. Ganondorf himself would have been tempted to glance at them had he not seen them his whole life. He had grown up with six sisters who had little in the way of modesty. He found the female body beautiful but not distracting. Then he remembered that wasn't entirely true. He recalled how he had studied Zelda's backside as she had led him up the stairs, and how he had enjoyed the site of her silhouette limned in firelight. He shook his head. There was no time for that now, nor would there probably ever be.

The king eyed her admiringly. Ganondorf could tell the potion was having the desired effect when Filepus's mask slipped for a moment to reveal the blatant lust underneath. He quickly corrected himself and ordered the girl to stand. She did and proceeded to introduce herself. He could not tell what she said, but it was clear that it pleased the king. They talked for a few moment, exchanging pleasantries. The king's hand reached out and glided over the girl's supple white shoulder. Ganondorf smiled to himself. It would not be long now.

She moved in slowly, inching her way over until she was nearly face to face with him. The small man's hand swept up from her shoulder to her neck and then he cupped her cheek. The Gerudo knew he should feel guilty for fooling the girl into believing the king's affections were genuine, but he could not find it within himself. She could do far worse than to bed a king. It had never done any of the women he bedded any good, but Hylian society was different. Despite having a woman as their monarch, they continued to barter and sell women like beasts. Girls were given in marriage at a young age to the man with the most money or who would make the most powerful alliance for their families. His own sisters and aunts had joked at how docile Hylian women were. They were quiet and demure towards their men where as the Gerudos were as bold as any swaggering soldiers. They took who they wanted and thought nothing of it.

The girl feigned a flush of embarrassment at the king's attentions and batted her eyes prettily. It was all a show. She was no virgin that much was clear to Ganondorf. She puckered her lips to hint at a kiss and the king took it. The former King of Thieves had to keep himself from cackling at how well his plan was going. The courtiers around them murmured to themselves but pretended to ignore it. No doubt their own former king had done far worse with the women of his court. When the relatively chaste kiss was completed, the king looped his arm through the girl's and proceeded to escort her from the hall. A little while later, the Queen returned and seemed to inquire where her betrothed had gone. The fawning sycophants babbled as one loud chorus with lies and vague half truths. The king had gone to bed they seemed to be saying. They simply did not say with whom. The Queen however was not as stupid. Ganondorf could tell that she deduced what had occurred quickly enough and left the room in a swirl of skirts.

It was some time before she returned. Her face was flushed with rage and hurt and embarrassment. Her former good cheer was replaced by her customary chilliness, and everyone knew that she had caught her fiancé in a most compromising position. He watched with pride as she dabbed fake tears from her beautiful eyes and excused herself while attempting to choke back a sob. He had taught her well. Who had ever known the Queen was such a wonderful actress?

She locked eyes with him from across the room. He could see that secret smile hiding behind her eyes. He made his way over slowly towards their prior meeting place. She was already there waiting for him in the darkness.

"How are you, Your Majesty?" he said in a concerned voice.

"Distraught," she said in a tone of restrained laughter.

"What could be the cause of your distress?" He held out his hands in front of him.

"I found my beloved with another woman." She moved closer to him, and he could smell a faint waft of her perfume.

"Truly terrible," he murmured soothingly.

"Oh yes, I am quite traumatized. His hand was down the little tart's bodice. Her stays were already unlaced and her skirt was halfway up her thighs." She shook her head in disbelief, blue locks tumbling over her white shoulders.

"Despicable," he whispered as he unconsciously moved a strand of hair out of her face.

"There is no way I can trust him now. How am I to marry a man I cannot trust? The nerve. Goddesses, the nerve." Her lips curled into a smirk as she stared at him. In his current shape, they were nearly eye to eye.

Ganondorf forgot his previous anger and rage as he stared at those rose colored lips. He almost felt the need to comfort her. "How could you? You are not even married yet and he disgraces you like this in front of your entire court."

"I can't," she stated. "There is no way I can agree to a marriage on these grounds. He has violated any sense of honor or propriety between us. If we were a common couple it could be forgiven, but I must be an example to my people. They look to me for guidance, and what would they think if I went through with something like this?"

"Of course."

They exchanged mutually mischievous smiles that burned in the darkness around them. The Triforce of Power chimed deep inside his chest in time with hers. Her eyes widened, and she blinked.

"I never get used to that," she said.

"I have grown accustomed to it; though it is stronger the closer I am to one of you. Now, I have done you a great favor. I expect something in return."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What exactly would that be?"

"Answers," he said simply.

"To what?"

"To why you resurrected me and then kept the knowledge that my Piece was restored from me," his voice sank into a growl.

"I kept it from you because I feared what you might do. That much should be obvious to you. You have already threatened my kingdom, and if you think I will sit back and allow you to take it without a fight you are sorely mistaken."

"I would never dream of such a thing, but you seem to be exaggerating the fight. I could crush you." His hand curled into a fist by his side as he fought the urge to wrap his fingers around her neck.

"You think you could crush me of that I have no doubt, but would you be quite as willing to go through with it as you say you are?" She stepped closer to him within reach of his fingers.

His hand flew out and grabbed the side of her neck. The illusion was failing now. He could see his real hand out in front of him, dark skinned and strong enough to snap bone. His fingers rested on the nape of her neck while his thumb settled at her pulse. He could feel the strong beating of her heart against the pad of his thumb. She wasn't even afraid. "Do not tempt me, and you still have not answered my first question. Why did you resurrect me if you feared what I would do?"

She looked up into his face. He had grown several inches as the spell began to unweave. "Am I to be humiliated twice tonight at your hands?" she said coldly, dark and dangerous things swimming beneath the surface of her eyes.

He swallowed and tightened his grip. He wanted to shake the words out of her. "I'm sure the sooner you say it, the less humiliating it will be to your delicate sensibilities."

"Fine," she threw back her shoulders as if bracing for a blow, "I did not want you dead."

He laughed, softly and bitterly. He suddenly hated the stifling air of the hall around them and the crush of people. He wanted to throw off the rest of this wretched body and these hideous robes. He wanted her to see him in all of his vain and wonderful glory. He wanted to feel her pulse quicken and tremble beneath his touch. He wanted her heart to knock against her ribs like a caged bird trying to escape.

"Is that all?" he growled as he lowered his mouth to her ear.

"What more could there be?" she said innocently, her voice still perfectly smooth and cool.

"I do not know. Perhaps, you could enlighten me."

"Why would I ever want to do that? My heart has just been broken. Why should I open it to you?"

He looked at her. She was afraid but in a different way. She was afraid of herself. She always had been. He wanted her to turn that fear towards him. He wanted her to burn with it like pitch thrown onto a fire. "Would you feel more comfortable discussing these things in the study?" It was more of a command than a question.

She slid her gaze to the side in consideration. "I would like to get out of here. It is dangerous in the state you are in. My spell is unraveling."

He glanced down and saw the normal pallor of his skin returned to his entire arm now. "Good, then lead the way." He removed his hand from her throat and gently pushed her in the direction that they had entered from.

She cast a glance at him over her shoulder and moved her hands up and down the dark wall searching for the secret door. Her fingers found the door frame and opened it with a creak. He ducked his head underneath the lintel as he followed her into the stairwell. The Queen pushed the door shut behind them and summoned an orb of light that matched the color of her costume. Ganondorf stared down at his fingers and hands in the dim light and felt truly like himself for the first time in a long while. He could see the thick muscles playing beneath the thin layer of his tanned skin. He admired the hard earned scars that crisscrossed his forearms. Strength was brimming in him, but not just his own. He could feel the Triforce of Power humming quietly within him.

She led him up the steps and through several doors each in various states of neglect and decay. This seemed to be yet another path to his secret room. This time they passed through a corridor where he could hear the dripping of water and smelled a whiff of mildew in the stale air. It seemed Hyrule Castle was littered with secret tunnels and passages. A whole city could have hidden within its walls and no one would have ever known.

"Why are there so many secret tunnels?" he asked as he stepped out of the way of a spider's web.

"The intentions that started these were logical enough. The monarchs wanted to create secret passages as ways to spy on their nobles and as possible escape routes. Later tunnels were added to accommodate mistresses and spies. Sadly though, most of these are the result of eccentricity and paranoia. Many of my predecessors felt that they were not safe enough within their own walls so they built upon the tunnels with each generation to confuse their enemies. The result is the labyrinth we are currently in. It is sad to say but a touch of madness does run in my family." Her smile said that she did not find it quite so sad.

He said nothing to that. He only found it mildly interesting. It made sense in many ways. She came from a family of great power both politically and magically who had been entrusted with sacred relics. That was bound to breed some insanity. He saw no taint of it in her though. Indeed, some insanity might have done her a bit of good.

They continued on their journey in silence until they at last came upon the familiar small door. She opened it with a heavy iron key and let them in. The orb of light preceded them and hovered towards the ceiling where it remained.

"Help me light some candles," the Queen said briskly as she walked over to a bookshelf and took four candlesticks off of it. She handed two to Ganondorf and set the other two on separate tables. With a snap of her fingers, she lit their wicks and ordered him to do the same.

The magic came so easily it surprised him. Once, conjuring a small flame had been a parlour trick he learned as a child. Now, he felt as if he was the man who had found fire. He let the small flame dance from finger to finger, marveling in its light and warmth, before setting it to the end of the wicks and depositing the candles on two more tables. He stared at the manmade fire for a long time before he caught Zelda watching him intently with her curled half-smile.

"What?" he asked sheepishly, trying quickly to cover his embarrassment that he had been caught.

"I had just forgotten what it is like to feel amazement at doing magic. I suppose I have taken my abilities for granted." She shrugged carelessly and began to browse the books on the shelves.

"You would not if you had all of yours ripped away from you only to have them replaced suddenly without your knowledge," he grumbled, his anger rising again.

She shrugged again. "I have explained my motives to you. They are perfectly reasonable. You know that. You're just being stubborn."

"You have not explained all of your reasons yet." He stepped up behind her, nearly pinning her against the wall of books.

She turned slowly. "I told you that I did not want to see you dead. I think that is a fairly clear and understandable explanation."

He ripped off the cloth hat and veil, feeling foolish for still having them on, and threw them to the floor at their feet. "That is a simple explanation, but I have a feeling it is not the whole truth. There is a reason why you did not want me to remain dead. What was it?"

She smiled up at him bitterly, her eyes sparking in the golden light of the candles. "You are as cruel and greedy as ever I see. It is good to know that some things in this world never change."

"But many do, don't they?" He craned his neck down to see her better.

"Yes, they do."

"And?"

She let out a breath. "And I must admit that my feelings towards you are one of those things. I do not hate you. Congratulations."

"Zelda," he said in a charming and condescending tone of voice, "why must you fight me? Fight yourself? You only prolong the inevitable. That is all."

"I am not an easy woman to tolerate, Ganondorf, and you are not an easy man to handle."

"I know," he replied sincerely. That is where half of the appeal was for him. She was infuriating and challenging, but what she did she did unapologetically. There was nothing half-hearted about Zelda, and the same was true for himself. He wanted to hate her. He knew he should. Had not only a few short minutes ago had he been raging at her for what she had done to him? Yet here he was softening towards her like a teenage boy.

She let out a shaky sigh and touched the side of his face lightly with her fingers. "I suppose I should just go ahead and get it over with then, eh? I would have given anything to be able to say it to you when I thought you were dead. Here is my opportunity, why am I so reluctant to now?"

He swallowed. He struggled to keep his body from betraying him. His heart was pounding in his chest and moving up into his throat.

"Say it." The words did not come out as strongly as he wanted them to. They came out strangled and hoarse.

"I should hate you," she whispered mostly to herself. "But I do not. Not like I ought to. I love you." Her fingers withdrew from his cheek and started to flutter down to her side. He caught her wrist and pressed it to his lips.

"I know you should as I should hate you for the things you have done to me, but we do not always feel what we should. We can only feel what we do." He sounded like a lovesick child. It sickened him. It made everything inside of him rebel and quail against this wicked woman who would wreak such havoc in him. He knew she must feel much the same way.

"What do you feel for me?" The question was shy and soft and so vulnerable it seemed as if it could not have come from her lips. She was snow and ice imprisoned in a beautiful woman's body. She should not be capable of expressing such insecurity and such confliction.

He smiled at her, the grin caught between self-loathing and wickedness. "I feel what I feel and that is all."

"And is that love?" She started to draw her wrist away from him back to her chest.

He held it there. She would accept nothing less he knew that. "Yes."

She stopped fighting him and let him put her wrist to his mouth where he bit it lightly with his teeth. Her lids lowered dangerously. Her other hand wrapped around his neck as she stood on tiptoe and removed her wrist from his lips. She pressed her mouth to his.

Her lips were soft and hungry as they worked against his. His tongue slid into her mouth. His hand tangled into her hair which had returned to its natural golden color. His other hand pressed her tightly against him.

He moved his mouth from her lips to her neck and down to her shoulder. She made a small noise of pleasure in her throat at the action. His teeth nipped lightly at the white skin, which earned him a yelp of surprise but not pain. Her body became limp and pliant as he moved his hands and lips over her. Her eyes were misted and dreamy when he looked at them.

Her fingers dug into his back, her nails sharp and biting. Her hands wandered down to his hips and settled there for a moment. He could feel her hesitation. She wanted this, but she was unsure of how to go about it. He did not know how many lovers she had had before him or if she had even enjoyed those times, but he knew that they were all vastly different from that moment. He stood there patiently as he waited for her to make up her mind as to what she would do.

"Forgive me," she said quietly as she feigned an embarrassed laugh. "It's just been a long time for me."

"It's alright. I will make you remember." He kissed her again, forcing her back against the bookshelf. She murmured something in surprise against his lips. One of her hands remained on his hips, the other moved towards the front and dipped dangerously low. Fingertips lightly brushed against him through the thin fabric of his red robes. Come to think of it, why was he still wearing the ridiculous things? The thought was quickly drowned out as he felt slender fingers touch him. It had been too long for the both of them. He groaned in pleasure in response. She laughed against his lips.

The angle of the kiss was beginning to make his back ache due to their height difference. His hands reached for her hips to lift her up to him, but she broke the kiss and withdrew her touch. He felt the air leave his lungs. He looked at her in question.

"If this is to be done, it will not be done like this."

He raised an eyebrow in puzzlement. Her hands went up to the straps of her dress and slipped them off of her shoulders. The dark blue silk slid from her body and pooled at her feet. She stood there naked in the flickering of candles before him. Her armor was gone not in the removal of her clothes but in the light of her face. The hesitancy still shimmered on her features like a pool of water, but she was raw and defiant nonetheless.

His golden eyes flowed down from her aristocratic features to her white shoulders enameled in gold to her breasts and stomach to her rounded hips and her strong legs. He saw Wisdom breathing out of her. She knelt down in front of him and took the hem of his robes and drew it up as she stood. He lifted his arms over his head and assisted her. He flung the hindrance away into a far corner. It landed in a soft rustling of cloth.

The Queen took his hand in her own and led him away towards the pallet of blankets and pillows. He appreciatively watched her hips sway as she walked. Power echoed in the chambers of his chest, singing like a choir in the Temple of Time. The notes floated up and up into the dome of his brain. It was pleased with this. It rejoiced in the harmony of its sister.

She lied down on the pile of silks and velvets, their colors stark against her skin. He did the same and laid his body parallel to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew herself close to him. He could feel the warmth of her body spreading onto his. He found the cradle of her hips and pressed himself against her. She sighed into the crook of his neck as her arms tightened around him. He could feel her breasts on his chest rising and falling as she breathed. He dug his fingers into the flesh of her hip, fighting the urge rising in him to give her the time that she seemed to crave.

Her breath hitched in her throat. His hands roamed over her back to her hips. His dark fingers splayed wide on her white skin. Zelda had forgotten much. She had forgotten the joys of feeling someone else's flesh touch hers. The skin of his hands was rough and callused, but that did not matter to her at the moment. It was the warmth that she loved, that she reveled in. He burned like a flame against her. She thought for a moment that she could see his light shining through her, piercing her like sunbeams in the gloom of twilight.

They lay tangled together for a while, their legs sliding in and out between each other as they tested the unknown waters. Both of them had known previous lovers, him many, her few, but their disparity in experience did not matter. They had never been with anyone like each other before. How did you proceed to make love to someone who was your opposite and equal?

She threaded her fingers through his long red hair and let it fall softly against the palm of her hand. She had never appreciated the intensity of its color before now. It was like blood and fire and wine. All of which were sweet hot things that made life worth living. Her fingers left his hair and wandered down to the muscles of his neck and shoulders. She played her nails lightly across his skin, and it pleased her when she felt goose bumps rise where she touched him.

He kissed her neck and worked his way to her fair shoulders. They were as smooth and unblemished as alabaster, and he told her so. She laughed, and he complimented her again to hear the sound.

His hands seemed to grow restless remaining at her hips and so he slid them further down. He moved his hand down between her legs. She gasped at the touch and moved her hips closer to his. She could feel the length of him pushing against her thigh. Without warning, his finger slid into her and began to skillfully move in and out. His thumb rested tenderly on her nub and moved in wonderfully slow and agonizing circles. Her breath came faster and her muscles turned to water as he curled the end of his index finger slightly to create more friction.

"Do you like that?" he growled maliciously.

She would have shot something snide back at him if she had had the mind to. He knew she was enjoying it. He just wanted to hear her say it. She settled for nodding weakly as he continued faster. The pressure of his thumb increased as his finger hit that one perfect spot inside of her. Light exploded behind her eyes as she let the pleasure swell in her, and she rode it. The wave washed over in a single blinding moment that swallowed her whole. Her whole body felt soft and tingly as it surged up from between her legs to spread hotly through the rest of her.

His motion slowed and then stopped. He withdrew his hand from her and rested it lightly on her hip again. He wore a self-satisfied smirk on his face. He was pleased with himself, and she could tell from the increasing pressure against her leg that he was pleased with her.

She drew in a ragged breath and settled her head against his chest. It was only a moment before his hands began to wander again. His right hand cupped her breast and flicked his thumb across her nipple. A thrill ran through her blood. She could feel the nerves in her body dancing. She was an instrument that he played and each note was held long past its breaking point.

He kissed her neck and worked his way down to her shoulder and then her chest. His tongue darted across her nipple. Her breath caught in her throat. His long hair shielded his face from her view as she looked down at him. He gave another careful flick and bit her lightly. Her back arched in response, and she could hear the blood roaring in her ears. Her world shrank down to that one small space, to the confines of her body, as his mouth kissed and sucked. He moved to her other breast, his free hand wandering down her side and over her thigh. She ran her fingers through his hair, tangling them in waves of red. His teeth nipped lightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to excite her. She was dancing on that fine, thin edge again when he stopped and looked up at her.

"You are not used to this, are you?" he said seriously.

"Wh-what?" she replied breathlessly, having to teach herself how to speak again.

"Having a man pay attention to your needs," he elaborated as his fingers idly stroked her inner thigh.

She tried to recall memories of her past experiences with men. Some of them had been pleasant she thought, but they had never been this attentive or affectionate. It had mostly been before she was queen. After her coronation, the risk had been too great to take on lovers.

"No," she finally answered. "Is there anything you would have me do for you?"

He smiled evilly, much the same way he had when she had seen him from afar across the battlefield. It had merely seemed mocking and arrogant then. It still was, but she found that the effect of it on her was much more profound.

"No," he said. He moved alongside her until she could tuck her head underneath his chin again. "There is only one thing I want, and that is enough."

She nodded in understanding and took his face in her hands. She kissed him fiercely. She could feel sheets of ice tumbling down inside of her beneath the fury of it. He rumbled in his throat at the sudden intensity. Her lips roved from his mouth to his neck and back again. Strong fingers gripped her hips on both sides as he poised himself above her. He rested his weight on his knees and tugged her forward, forcing her thighs apart. She wrapped her legs around his waist, hooking her ankles together. He lowered himself onto his forearms, placing them on either side of her.

Zelda laced her fingers through his. The red of his hair mingled with the gold of hers as he stared down at her. His gaze bored right into hers. She could not have looked away if she wanted to. He moved his hips and slid into her in one smooth motion. She gripped his hand tighter as a shudder ran through her. He squeezed hers briefly in return. Then his hips rocked back, and he pushed himself into her again. She moaned in appreciation and watched his eyes cloud over with passion.

They found a rhythm. He rose, and she fell like the tides of the ocean. Instinctively, her hips rose to meet him, her legs pressing against his sides as she forced him deeper into her.

As he moved inside of her, his eyes remained locked on hers. He seemed to be studying every sigh and breath that passed between her lips. It delighted him when he changed the angle slightly and a gasp escaped her throat. She responded by twisting her hips just a bit and watched with pleasure as he bit his bottom lip and cursed her under his breath.

He found that same spot in her that his finger had previously. She moaned wordlessly and dug her nails into the backs of his hands. He quickened his speed and drove into her harder. That feeling of euphoria from earlier was starting to return. She could feel it clouding the edges of her mind. Her body felt strangely ethereal. She lifted her hips off of the ground and held onto him by the strength of her legs.

"Say it," he said in a hoarse voice.

"What?"

"My name." He answered as he pumped into her.

"No." She had to force the word out from between her lips. It took a great deal of effort to remember how to speak at the moment.

His pace slowed, and he grabbed her chin with his right hand while he steadied himself with his left. "Say it," he repeated.

She swallowed. "Why?"

"Because," he said, emphasizing the word with a thrust, "I want you to have no doubt or fantasies in your mind that it's me you're fucking."

She wanted to fight him on it. It was instinct. Everything inside of her told her that she should not give into this stupid and absurd request, but she was so close. She could feel it hovering on the edges of her consciousness, and she needed it. She had not realized how much a part of her had been missing, how much she had denied herself. "Fine," she assented, "but we are not fucking."

He let out a deep breath and increased his speed. She could feel the edge racing towards her. She was about to fall off of it. He hit that spot again, and she went reeling over. She was sent spinning end over end. It surged up inside of her and filled her until she thought she would burst with it.

"Ganondorf," she whispered softly. Once she said the word she found she could not stop. She wrapped her free arm around his neck and put her lips close to his ear. She murmured it over and over like a chant. It slipped off of her tongue easily.

His breathing became shaky as she repeated his name more swiftly and loudly. Their rhythm quickened and became lost as he slid into her harder and deeper. His arms began to tremble, and he hissed some word in a language she didn't know. It sounded like a curse, but she wasn't sure. She was too far gone to care anyways. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest against hers as the pleasure began to ebb in her. She continued to say his name more softly until he let out a guttural groan and slowed down until he stopped.

He rolled onto his side and laid there panting. Sweaty strands of red hair clung to his forehead as his dark, muscular chest rose and fell. She watched him blink a few times in confusion as he struggled to regain his composure. She had given that effort up when he had made her say his name. Her hair was in snarl s and tangles, her cheeks were as red as cherries, and she ached between her thighs, but she didn't care. She felt wonderful. A sense of peace had settled on her like a heavy blanket that she didn't want to shrug off. She could feel both of their Triforce pieces humming inside of them. She briefly wondered what Link had felt during that.

The Queen managed to smile at the Gerudo as she plucked a strand of hair from his face and tucked it back into its proper place. Normally, this was the part where the man closed his eyes and went to sleep, but she could see that his eyes were still wide awake. He looked down at her with a sated look in his eyes like a predator that had just made a successful kill.

He shook his head and began to laugh. She propped herself up with an elbow and stared at him as he continued to chuckle, shaking with the force of his own mirth. When it ended, he reached out to her and pulled her to him. He buried his face into her hair and drew in its scent.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Nothing," he answered as he lightly stroked her back with the tips of his blunt fingers.

"What was so funny?"

"Everything," he said simply. "This whole thing seems like a dream or a nightmare depending on who you ask." He looked at the back of his hand in the dimming candlelight. He could see the half-moon indentions where her nails had dug into his skin. He kissed the top of her head and relaxed into the pile of blankets and pillows surrounding them.

A few moments of silence passed before the Queen looked up at him thoughtfully. His golden eyes were still open, roaming over the ceiling and bookshelves.

"What are you thinking about?" she questioned.

"Hmm," he mumbled. "Many things. What will be the consequences of our actions tonight? Where we now stand with Filepus? What should I do with my returned piece? Whether you are willing to go again?"

She took his large hand in hers and turned it in the light, liking the look of his dark skin against her fair, two sides of the same coin. "I can only answer one of those questions, and the answer is yes." She stretched her neck to reach his lips and forced him onto his back. He raised an eyebrow in surprise as she straddled him. "But this time, I think I would like to be on top."

He flashed a wicked smile at her. "Of course, Your Majesty."

**I meant to get this chapter up earlier at least in time for New Year but that didn't happen. This chapter was a monster to write. I just started, and it kept going and going. I think it's the longest chapter I've ever written. Anyways, if you made it to the end, thank you! This was my first time writing a love scene so if it doesn't seem quite up to par with the rest of the story that's why. I know it was mushy and probably way too mellow-dramatic, but that is mostly because I wanted this to be a **_**love**_** scene. I did not want to this to be snarky, angry sex. I appreciate those kinds of scenes, and they are fun to write, but I am really trying to balance this story out with serious moments. I wanted this moment to be climatic (sorry for the pun), and I just felt like in order for it to culminate it needed to be emotional. In my mind, one of the main themes of this story has been Zelda coming to terms with herself and her emotions. I just didn't think that would happen as well if I made the scene anymore humorous than it already was. **

**I'm very sorry if this disappointed some of you. I rewrote this thing like five times, never quite satisfied with it. This version is the closest that I got. I would appreciate any thoughts or constructive criticisms you might have about the chapter in general or the love scene in particular. I am terrible at writing love scenes and fight scenes, and I am always looking for ways to improve upon either. **

**Thanks for your time. I think this story might have two chapters left to it at most, and then it's done.**

**P.S.-I'm wondering if anyone could guess who I tried to disguise Ganondorf as. I would love to hear your answers, though I think it was rather obvious. **


	9. Chapter 9

Taming the Tiger Chapter 9

**I decided to rewrite this because I was not happy with the first version. This version has less suck and more smut! The beginning is the same, but I added a lot to the middle and changed some stuff around in the confrontation between Zelda and Ganondorf.**

Something was banging on the door. His eyes flew open. Someone was banging on the hidden door to the study. He quickly untangled himself from Zelda who was already struggling to get to her feet. He grabbed her hand and tugged her back down to her knees.

"Oww," she hissed in the darkness.

He looked overhead into the skylight and still saw stars. The thumping continued, louder and more frantic. He looked around himself for a makeshift weapon. "Stay down," he ordered as he saw her starting to stand again.

"Why?"

"Because we don't know who it is. If they break down that door they might see you. I thought you said no one knew about this place." He started rummaging quietly through the blankets and pillows. "Summon a knife like you did earlier. I can't find anything here to fight with."

"I can only do that for myself. The moment I give it to you it will turn to smoke." She turned away from him and began to crawl towards the place where she had discarded her dress.

He let out a curse as he watched her disappear around a bookcase. He growled wordlessly to himself and continued searching. He looked up and noticed one of the heavy candlesticks sitting on a shelf. It wasn't much, but he supposed it was better than nothing. He reached up for the candlestick but then stopped. He suddenly remembered that he needed no weapon. His Triforce pulsed to life inside of him at the surge of emotions. All the power and force that he needed was right at his fingertips. He let out a deep breath to calm himself.

The Queen returned clothed in her costume from the ball. She dropped into a crouch as soon as she saw him. The pounding started again. They could hear a muffled voice outside the door. They exchanged a glance as something strange filled the room. The pressure increased. Magic was being performed nearby, and it was strong.

"I'm going to go answer the door," she said in a shaky voice.

"No," he gripped her hand to keep her from leaving. "Let's leave out one of the other doors."

She shook her head. "If they keep up that much noise they'll alert the whole castle to us. I can't risk it."

He sighed and thought of arguing with her but knew he would not be able to dissuade her. "Fine," he relented, "but be careful. And carry a knife with you. Hide it."

"Already done," she said as he watched her slip a knife into a pocket lining her skirts.

They nodded silently to each other before she got up, fixed her hair, and walked over to the source of the noise. Ganondorf waited between the two bookshelves, his muscles coiled like springs beneath his skin. The magic had built up so much he could taste it. Its flavor was both foreign and familiar to him at the same time. He breathed and waited.

The pounding stopped as he heard the door creak open. He readied himself, his lips already forming the words to a defensive spell. He strained his ears as he waited for the unknown person to speak.

"Your Majesty," a sickeningly familiar voice said, "is everything alright?"

"Of course," she answered calmly. "I am fine. How did you find this place?"

There was a pause before the voice answered, "I felt something, some strange energy or fluctuation. I'm not quite sure what to call it. I just followed it, and it led me here." The words were relieved and bewildered at the same time. He sounded as if he had run the entire way.

"Well, I can assure you that I am perfectly safe. Thank you for checking on me. I would appreciate it though if you kept your knowledge of this room secret. I come here to think sometimes, and after tonight, I felt the need to gather my thoughts." He could almost see that serene and sympathetic expression gracing her features.

"Of course, of course," he murmured, "I just thought it might have something to do with _him_. I was afraid he might have done something to you. Where is he? I have not seen him since that night." His voice had grown stronger, overcoming his initial fear and desperation.

Ganondorf smirked to himself. It was too perfect an opportunity to miss. After all, there was still that small issue of the sword being plunged into his side.

"Oh, he's-" Zelda started.

"I'm right here," he called out. He stood and strutted around the bookshelves.

The two Hylians turned to stare at him. Zelda's face lost all color and expression. She was now only a tight-lipped, pale mask. The Hero's mouth hung open as he appeared to try and process the fact that his nemesis was standing naked in front of him with his queen in the same room. His eyes flicked from Ganondorf to Zelda and back again.

"What's the matter, boy? You act as if you've never seen a naked man before. I always did suspect you were an eunuch."

Link ignored the insult and turned his eyes to Zelda again. "What I felt . . . ," he started and then stopped. "Milady, what happened here?"

Ganondorf could see Zelda trying to think up a proper answer as she shot him a withering glance that made him smile wider. "Really? You can't tell? We can give you a demonstration if you like."

"I was not asking you," Link hissed as his hand went to the sword at his hip. Ganondorf felt the pressure in the room spike again. So that's what it had been. He could tell from the hilt that it was the Master Sword. He suppressed a shudder and backed away half a step.

"Careful now," the Gerudo responded, "I have my own piece back now. You'll find that killing me won't be as easy as it was last time."

"Luckily for me, I enjoy a challenge," the Hylian growled as his lips skinned back to bare his teeth in a feral grin. The fingers of his left hand tightened their grip on the sword, and the symbol of the Triforce flared to life on the back of his hand.

The former king felt the magic flooding his veins as he started to silently prepare a spell. The magic was mounting in the room so thickly it was like staring through a heat haze.

"If the both of you don't stop this, I'll personally flay you myself." Zelda's words cut through the air like a shard of ice. Her piercing eyes found Ganondorf's and then Link's.

The bigger man let out a sigh of frustration but relaxed his shoulders and allowed the spell to dissipate. The Hylian reluctantly loosened his grip on his blade and took a step back from both of the other two Triforce carriers.

"Thank you," she said as she bowed her head, though the words sounded forced. "Link, I will speak with you in the corridor. Ganondorf please put on some pants."

Several tense minutes passed while Zelda spoke with Link, and he searched for his clothing. He found his trousers crumpled up in a corner and slipped them on as quietly as possible, straining to hear what was being said. He could pick up no specific words, only the murmur of their voice, and for once, he wished he had those ridiculous pointed ears the Hylians were "blessed" with.

Zelda turned the corner, shaking her head and let out a sigh.

"Well?"

"Well," she said sharply, "I miraculously managed to convince him not to kill you.

"I believe you meant to say," Ganondorf corrected, "that you miraculously kept him from attempting to kill me and thus leading me to killing him."

The Queen muttered irritably and began to look around the room thoughtfully. "I suppose I should be going," she said reluctantly.

He looked up to the small skylight again and saw that the stars were still out. "Why? It's still dark."

She frowned. "Yes, but soon it will be dawn, and it will look suspicious if I am caught in these same clothes by my maids in the morning. No, I think it would be best if I leave now."

"Then do what you must," he said, but his tone implied he was not happy with her decision even if he did see the reasoning behind it.

She reached out a slender hand towards him and trailed her fingers from his shoulder to his elbow. "You know that I do not want to leave you, don't you?" She looked up hesitantly into his eyes, clearly embarrassed by what she was saying.

He sighed, the exhilaration of a few moments ago draining from his muscles. He eyed the stone walls around him nervously as if they might come tumbling down on his head. "I know. I know." He placed his hand at the small of her back and rubbed in a slow circle.

After several slow minutes, she moved away from his touch and towards the door. She spared one last glance at him over her shoulder before she left silently.

Ganondorf sank back down into a crouch amidst the heap of blankets and pillows that still smelled faintly of sex. He looked up into the skylight at the dark night and realized that he very badly wanted to see all the constellations stretched out before him. He sighed and stretched out his body to try and get back to sleep. It took a long time.

* * *

The Queen returned the next night by the secret door. She carried a basket on one arm, and he could smell sharp cheese and fresh bread. "I come bearing gifts," she whispered underneath the hood of her cloak as she lifted her arm to display her goods.

"It would not happen to be filled with supplies for an evil spell to warp me into that hideous creature again, would it?" he asked as he approached her cautiously.

She smiled quickly, a white flashing of teeth splitting her face, and shook her head. "No, I am afraid not. Just food if that is alright." She knelt down and spread out a blanket she'd brought. Slowly, she laid out the food before them and went about slicing them both portions of bread, cheese, and apples. Then out came two plain pewter goblets and a bottle of dark red wine. She poured a generous amount into each goblet and handed one to him.

He took it gratefully and took a sip. The flavor was rich and dark with a hint of spice to it that he could not recall tasting recently. "Where is this from?" he asked as he peered into his cup.

"From the Desert," she said innocently as she picked up a slice of cheese and nibbled on it.

He stilled with the cup goblet half way to his mouth. Carefully, he set it down again and fixed his eyes on her. "How did you come by a vintage from the Desert, Zelda?"

"It was a gift," she answered evasively, becoming more intent on her particular piece of cheese.

"From who and why?" He drew his red brows together and leaned forward on an elbow.

"I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I told you that it was something left over from the gifts you sent me for my birthday when I reached my majority?"

"No," he answered firmly. "I remember the gifts I gave you for your birthday, and I distinctly remember picking them out to be as distasteful as possible."

"Oh yes," she said thoughtfully as she looked up to the ceiling, "I remember you sent me a bullbos to serve as a new mount. It was a hideous creature and ill tempered. Reminds me of you now that I come to think of it."

"Hmm," he murmured as he picked up the goblet and turned it between his large fingers, "if I am hideous and ill tempered what does that say about you considering your most recent associations with me?"

"I suppose that would make me a great tamer of beasts," she said with a smile, "and I do have to admit that you rather remind me more of a tiger than a bullbos anyways."

"What did you ever do with the animal?"

"Oh, we killed it and ate it."

"Was it good?"

"Delicious."

He chuckled before his eyes flitted down to wine in his hand. "Back to the original matter, where did you get this?" He held his cup out in front of her.

"It was a gift from Nabooru," she said sheepishly.

"Why would that harpy be giving you gifts, _dearest?_" He asked sharply, fixing his golden eyes on her again. She was keeping something from him yet again, something he had every right to know about.

"Because she is the new leader of the Gerudo and has decided to treat with us. We are currently in negotiations on working out a peace treaty, _darling_," she shot back, her eyes meeting his brazenly. She picked up her chalice and took one long deep drink.

"Pah," he snorted in disgust. "She always was my loudest critic. The weakling never could stomach war or bloodshed. Of course, she'd crumble."

"I don't know of anyone who truly enjoys war. I don't think even you did. Your people were at the end of their strength. It was the only logical and responsible route to take."

He raised an eyebrow as he considered arguing with her on that point but decided against it. It would do no good. She was right in some ways. He did not particularly enjoy war, but he also knew that Nabooru had always been something of a pacifist by Gerudo standards. He idly wondered who Zelda had bribed and assassinated to have Nabooru put in that position. He doubted she could have taken the role of leader on her own. Still, that was a subject best left alone. "So how are things going in court? Has Filepus left yet?"

"No," she replied quietly as she reached for a slice of bread.

Ganondorf picked up a slice of apple and chewed it slowly, using the time to study her and think. She said nothing either, seeming content to sip her wine and watch the shadows on the wall. Finally, he swallowed and cleared his throat. "What are you going to do about that?"

She sighed and set down her goblet and slice of bread. She ran her long fingers through her hair. "Let us not speak of that," she whispered, leaning forward and closing the distance between them. Her face hovered inches in front of his. He could smell the spiced wine on her breath, and see the strands of gold and silver illuminated in her hair by the candle light.

"What did you wish to speak of?" he breathed as he set his own glass down in anticipation for what was to come.

"I was rather hoping we would not need to talk at all," she sighed before she leaned in and kissed him.

He returned it eagerly as he felt her lips against his and her tongue running along his bottom lip as she pulled away momentarily. Without thinking, his hands reached out for her, one of them tangling in her golden hair, and the other pulling her into his lap. A muffled cry escaped her lips as he settled her between his legs. She quickly adjusted herself to the new situation and turned around so that she was facing him with her legs wrapped around his waist. Her arms wound around his back with her nails digging into his shoulder blades. His hand moved from her hip to her upper body where he began to undo the stays of her bodice. His large fingers fumbled with the small strings.

"Damn," he growled as he freed his other hand from her hair to work on her top.

"Shh," she hissed as she placed one finger to his lips to silence him. She shook her head as he looked solemnly at her and then watched her slip out of it herself. He knew she was trying to distract him from the subject they had been discussing, and he found that he didn't mind so much when she began to kiss his neck.

He held her by her hips as he stood up and carried her to the heap of blankets and pillows that served as his bed. He could feel her thighs squeezing him as she held on with her arms draped across his shoulders. Gently, he laid her down and knelt in front of her much as he had the night before. She sat up, and her hands reached up and began to quickly strip him of his clothing with none of her ritualistic patience from the time before. Her hands wandered over his bare chest and shoulders and then to his back, her eyes following them the entire time. He closed his eyes and sank into the sensation of her soft palms against his dark scarred skin. Sometimes her hands would stop at certain spots where a particularly large scar was. She would stare at it for a moment, brush her thumb over it, and then move on. He could tell from that burning look in her eyes that she wanted to ask the story behind every one of them, but that would take all night and the next day. Then her fingers wandered to the newest in his side where the Master Sword had run him through. Her purple eyes grew unreadable as she lightly drew her fingers across it. She shook her head regretfully and finally settled them on his shoulders.

He pressed his face against the side of her neck and blew a hot breath out and on to her shoulder. She gave a pleased, wordless murmur and started to slip out of her skirts. They frothed around her ankles as he helped her free herself from them. Then they were carelessly tossed into a corner. He was merely glad that she had worn one of her simpler outfits.

Zelda stared at him with hunger in her purple eyes as she knelt in front him. The air grew thick with unspoken things that seemed to be threatening to burst through their paper-thin peace like water through a dam. He could have ruined this moment so easily by speaking. Instead, he took one of her hands in his as he reclined back against a wall and pulled her towards him. She followed wordlessly and straddled his hips, poising herself above him. Her hands found his shoulders as he took hold of her hips to support her. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, and he felt pleasure race through his blood at the contact. Her lips parted in a sigh of appreciation as she went up and came back down again. Her movements were painfully slowed and controlled as if she was trying to draw everything that she could from each moment. He squeezed her hips, and she sped up her rhythm, but it was still slower than he would have liked. Nonetheless, he did not speak, knowing that she wanted the night to go on as long as she could make it. Sex had never made time stop, but it seemed like it could sometimes.

Slowly, they continued as she rose and fell above him with his hands remaining at her hips. He lifted her up and brought her back down. She swiveled her hips in a way that made his breath catch in his throat and smirked at him wickedly through the strands of her golden hair. She kissed him quickly and pressed her forehead to his as they continued to move together. Her hands fell away from his shoulders as her arms looped around his neck. Her hips rocked against him as her breath blew heavily in his ear.

He raised his hips unexpectedly as she lowered herself again. She moaned quietly at the action and lifted her brow away from his. The agonizingly slow rhythm that she had maintained was broken. She increased the speed and intensity of her motions. Her back arched as she writhed on top of him and her eyes looked up into the skylight. He knew that she was nearing her limits. When she looked back down at him her eyes were full of want that sent a thrill racing through his body. He straightened his back and circled one arm around her hips and the other around the middle of her back. He drew her close to him until her breasts and stomach brushed his chest, and he could hear every time she drew another gasping breath. Her movements faltered and grew erratic as need drove her. He growled in response when a moan escaped her lips followed by his name. He could feel his control slipping as she sighed and moaned softly against his neck. His blood ran hot in his veins, and the ecstasy swept away his conscious thoughts as he allowed himself to be lost to her. His hips bucked, and her nails dug into the flesh of his back. Vaguely he thought that she might have drawn blood, but it only added to the intensity of the moment. He tightened the embrace until she was pressed fully against him and her sweat mingled with his. The passion peaked and ripped a wordless growl from him as he spent himself inside of her.

She slumped against him and rested her head on his shoulder. Thoughtlessly, his fingers stroked her back, feeling the skin slick with sweat. He leaned back slowly against the wall and loosened his hold on her. He could feel the muscles in her thighs relax as the rest of her body went slack. They stayed like that for several minutes as the only sound that filled room was that of their breathing.

She untangled herself from his arms and slipped off of his lap and onto the floor where she decided to lie on her side. He grunted and lied down on his back, allowing her to scoot over to him and press her cheek to his chest.

"Getting old, are you?" she teased.

"We are all getting older," he answered solemnly as his eyes fixed on the smattering of stars he could see overhead.

She looked up at him in alarm at the serious tone in his voice. "You're right," she replied as she ran a finger down the middle of his chest to his navel, "which is why we should spend our time wisely."

He nodded unconsciously, barely registering her skin on his.

"How will you spend the rest of yours?"

His golden eyes flicked down to her again. "I do not know," he said hesitantly, sensing the dangerous waters they were returning to.

"You know," she said slyly from under the curtain of her hair as she propped herself up on an elbow, "you could stay with me."

"And do what? Be your pet?" he said as lightly as he could manage.

She flashed him a sharp smile. "Yes, and you would be the best kept pet in the entire kingdom. I would buy a gold collar for you studded in rubies and garnets." Her hand reached up to encircle his neck in a demonstration.

He grabbed it out of the air before she could touch him. Her eyes widened at the action. He kept her wrist in his hand for a moment as he contemplated what to say to her. Finally, he kissed her knuckles and said, "Let's go to sleep."

She looked as if she wanted to protest but only settled back down beside him. He waited until her movements stilled and her breathing grew steady and even before he let his thoughts slow and his eyes closed. He knew he wouldn't sleep well that night, and he was right.

A rattling noise woke him up, and he found Zelda fully dressed and pouring herself a cup of tea. The steam from the pot wafted over to him and made his nose wrinkle in disgust. "That smells terrible," he remarked as he watched her calmly take a sip.

"It does taste terrible," she observed as she cradled the cup in her hands.

"Then why are you drinking it?" he asked curiously. He sat up and took a slice of bread in hand from last night's interrupted dinner.

"You really want to know?" she inquired, staring at him with raised brows over the rim of her cup.

"Yes," he said short-temperedly, the lack of sleep making him irritable.

She shrugged. "Fine. It's a tea to prevent pregnancy. Impa gave me the recipe a few years ago when I reached my age of adulthood."

"Wouldn't want any half-blood bastards running about now would we?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him but let the anger in his tone slide for the time being. "I don't want bastards of any kind running about. It has ruined kings, much less queens." She tilted the cup back and drained the rest of its contents. Then she went about placing all of the things back in her basket and making sure her attire was properly in place in case someone happened to see her.

Ganondorf looked up at the sky and could just see the faint pink tinge of dawn. He could not tell how much sleep he'd gotten. It could not have been more than three hours.

When Zelda was done gathering everything up and making sure her clothes were free of wrinkles, the Queen departed with a promise of returning that night. Ganondorf watched her go with a mind heavy full of burdensome thoughts.

Zelda came by night the next few days. They spoke little beyond what was necessary. He did not ask how the situation with Filepus was unraveling though it worried at his mind, and she did not ask what his plans were though she could see that his chains were starting to wear at him. Mostly they spent their time lying tangled in blankets with her cheek pressed to his chest while he allowed his fingers to thoughtlessly run through her hair. They could both feel their time slipping through their fingers as surely as the stars wheeled over their heads every night.

One particular day his thoughts could not be turned away easily. They kept coming back to him like a dog to his master. He could kick them and curse them, but they always returned. The walls of stone grew thicker every day and the air staler. The words on the pages of the books he attempted to read no longer held meaning. He paced relentlessly much as he had when he was first captured. Sometimes he would unlock the small door after Zelda left in the mornings and wander through the rambling passages of the castle, but he was not a man meant to be kept in darkness and tunnels. He needed sun and wind and sky.

It was on this day that the only thing left to confine him was himself. He had the power and the means to escape now. He needed no assistance in the matter. He had everything he required in the Triforce of Power. That meant there was only one decision to make and one course of action to take

"It has to be done," he murmured to himself as he sat in a chair staring at a book he had been attempting to read for the past half hour. He sighed as the weight of what was to come settled on to his shoulders. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and hung his face in his hands.

When Zelda entered the room that night he was leaning against the wall with a book open in his big hands. He idly flipped the pages and then shut it. He looked up at her, and he must have given himself away in that one action because she hesitated in the doorway. Her eyes darted around the room as if looking for an escape route, and she swayed nervously in place. Tonight there would be no whispers, no fierce kisses or embraces, only a painful inevitability to be faced.

He set the book down on a nearby table and took up a goblet of wine he'd left waiting just for this moment to fortify his courage. He stared into its depths as he swirled it slowly in his hands. The color reflected back at him was a dark, rich red like blood. He took a sip before he turned to her again.

"How are things with Filepus going?" he asked in as casual a voice as he could manage.

"Must we discuss this now?" she asked in an annoyed manner, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes," he answered in a tone that left no room for argument.

He could see the tension building in her body as she prepared her answer. She still wasn't comfortable speaking about it he could tell, but there was no choice as this point. "He keeps sending messengers to speak with me. He is imploring me to reconsider my decision. I keep turning them away."

Ganondorf nodded as if he had expected that answer. "You know you won't be able to simply turn them away forever."

Her brows furrowed in mild anger. "Of course, I know that. I'm not a fool."

"I never said you were. What does the Council think of your decision to call off the engagement?" He took another taste of wine and let it sit on his tongue for a moment as he took the opportunity to study her. She was half cast in shadow and half in light. He wondered how much of this exact moment he could engrain into his memory.

"They are not pleased with my decision. They think I should reconsider, but I won't. I refuse to. I have every right to call off this ridiculous charade. You saw to that." Her lips twisted into a strained faint smile.

"Yes, I suppose I did. I must admit this whole scheme has turned out better than I thought it would." He drummed his fingers on the table beside him and stared hard at his dark knuckles.

They slipped into silence again. Her dress rustled as she took a step towards him and settled her gaze on his face. Three more steps and she was standing right in front him, peering defiantly up into his face. "Say it. Say what you've been wanting to say to me from the moment I entered the room."

He eyed her as he considered how best to word his answer. He could see her eyes so clearly from this angle. They were dark and deep as wells. They glittered in the light, and if it had been anyone else he would have suspected it was from unshed tears.

He turned his back to her and let his eyes rove over the bookcases. "I have come to a decision."

"And?" she questioned as she clasped her hands in front of her.

"I am leaving."

She blinked quickly for a heartbeat and nodded stiffly. She had known his answer before the words had come out of his mouth. "My offer still stands."

"It is tempting," he said, forcing himself to turn and face her. "Very, and if there was anyone I could do it for it would be you, but I cannot."

She was putting her walls up. He could tell from the slight bracing of her shoulders and the upward tilt of her chin. She was donning her armor against him. "There is nothing I can do to change your mind?" she asked matter-of-factly.

"No," he answered firmly. Part of him wanted to back out to stay with her if only for a little longer, but the more sensible part told him that it would all end the same way. He could not stay confined to this small space for the rest of his days.

Her lips twisted into a wry and self deprecating smile. "Yes, I suppose you would leave now that you've gotten everything that you wanted. After all, there is nothing left for you to gain by being here, is there?"

"What do you mean?" he rumbled, setting his cup of wine down.

"Now is not the time to play stupid with me," she said coldly. "You have the Triforce of Power, you've bedded me, and now you're choosing to leave. I think that is more than a mere coincidence. After all, I suppose you think you've conquered Hyrule in a way by having me slip between your sheets. Tell me, did you plan this entire thing or just make it up as you went along?"

"You flatter me too much by thinking I'm capable of orchestrating this whole thing," he drawled as he eyed her.

"So then you made it up as went you along," she observed icily.

He angrily shook his head. "You really think I'm capable of that? For the bearer of Wisdom, you are surprisingly blind. I thought you knew me better than that."

"So did I," she said quietly as she briefly looked down.

He let out a short bark of incredulous laughter to mask the knot of emotions twisting in his stomach that was threatening to rise into his throat and choke him. "Goddesses, woman, you are one of the most stubborn and pig headed creatures I have ever met, and that is truly an accomplishment."

"I could say the same for you, Ganondorf Dragmire."

He smiled bitterly at her. It was hard to believe that this frostbitten woman was the same one he had made love to the night before. It never ceased to amaze him at how quickly she could divorce herself from her emotions. "Believe me, _Zelda_, sex is not worth putting up with all this."

He watched in grim satisfaction as her jaw clenched and the color rose in her cheeks. As always though, those small signs quickly faded as she regained mastery of herself. He oddly realized that he would miss riling her up like this. "Hmph," she scoffed as she slowly shook her head. "That settles it I suppose. When will you be leaving?"

"I do not know yet."

"Then I believe we have nothing more to discuss," she said calmly. "I wish you well in your life wherever it is you choose to go." She bowed her head and started for the door.

"This is truly how you wish to depart from me?" He said as he took a step forward, keeping his hand from reaching out towards her instinctively. She made him furious, but he knew that neither one of them truly wanted things to end like this.

"What do you want of me?" She turned to him again with her head cocked to the side. "You have already told me that there is nothing I can do to make you change your mind so what else is there? Do you want me to beg? Do you want me to cry? I won't."

"I know are you far too prideful for that. I simply do not think that this is how you truly want things to end between us."

"Well, I am not the one deciding to end them. That was your decision now it is your burden to bear the consequences of it." She turned away from him then and made her way to the door. She opened it, stepped through, and shut it behind her without looking back.

He stood there and stared at the doorway that she had passed through. He waited for several heartbeats before he realized he was expecting her to come back through that door and make amends with him. He shook his head and let out a bitter chuckle at his own stupidity. She would not be coming back through that door. The pit in his stomach relaxed a bit as he realized the hardest part was over. He had told her, and it had all gone to hell just like he knew it would.

* * *

The Queen sat in her solar thinking on the events of the night before. Her eyes felt heavy and tired. She had not slept well that night. It had been the first in several where she had slept alone in her own bed, and she found it was not quite as comfortable as she remembered. She would never admit it to herself or anyone else, but she had been lonely and the lack of an arm circled around her shoulders felt foreign. Absentmindedly, she rubbed her upper arm as if expecting a set of invisible fingers to be there. She cursed quietly under her breath and her hand fell away. She let out a deep breath and tried to clear her head. It would no good to think on things that could not be changed. She had too much work ahead of her to spend her time daydreaming. She stood up from her chair and moved to the study area of the room. A desk and chair awaited her. She took a seat and started to attempt to get something accomplished.

Zelda sat at her desk staring at a stack of papers. Her eyes roved over the words without truly comprehending them. She picked up her quill, tapped it on the desk, and set it down. She had lost count of how many times she had done that. Her eyes flitted to the door of her solar as if she could bar it with her mind. She would have liked nothing more than to bar it to the guest she was expecting.

She sighed and covered her face with her hands. She had come to the conclusion that there was no point in putting him off any longer. The sooner she got it over with the sooner it would be done. Her mind was made up. She was not going to back down, and he needed to know that.

A knock came. She lifted her face and sat back her in chair. Her hands fussed with the skirts of her dress and adjusted the small crown sitting on her brow. Everything had to appear to be in order even if it was anything but. "King Filepus of Holodrum, Your Grace," a male voice called out from behind the door.

"Let him in," she ordered.

She blew out one last breath and made sure her shoulders and back were perfectly straight. The door creaked open, and he stepped in as easily as he always had. She nodded stiffly for him to take the seat across from hers.

His clothing was fashionable and elegant as always. He wore a dark blue velvet half-cape and a doublet of the same color. His brown beard was neatly trimmed to a point, and his eyes were as sharp as ever. He took the seat across from her and sat back with his typical ease. He offered her a simple and indulgent smile. She did not return it.

"How has your stay at the castle been?" She asked politely.

"Well enough given the current circumstances," he replied.

"Are all of your needs being seen to?"

"Of course, I would expect no less of your hospitality."

"Good," she said in a business-like manner, signaling that the small talk and pleasantries had worn out their welcome.

"Thank you for finally agreeing to see me," he said with another smile, this one not as benevolent as the first.

"Well, I thought I should at least allow you to speak your piece before you depart." She folded her hands in her lap and crossed her legs at the ankles like a proper lady.

"I see no reason for that assumption," said the King of Holodrum with a raised eyebrow.

"Really?"

"Yes because I can assure that you will come to see in the course of this discussion that in all good sense you would not allow me to depart," he said in a softer voice.

"I'm sure you think that, but I can just as confidently assure you that my mind is implacable on the manner that we are to speak of." She kept her eyes on his face in an attempt to read his mood. Even after all this time, his eyes still disturbed her. They were small and clear but not easy to decipher. Their shade of blue was pleasant, but if anything it made his gaze seem all the colder and more calculating.

"Zelda," he whispered as he sat forward in the chair.

"I think it would be best if we addressed each other by our respective titles, Your Majesty," she cut in frostily.

He sighed in frustrated disappointment but did not recline back in his chair. "As you will, Your Grace." He bowed his head in mock deference to her. "Still, we are equals, and we have shared a relationship of mutual respect and admiration."

"Yes, we _did_." She put as much emphasis on that last word as she could in civil conversation.

"I see no reason as to why that should change. I see no reason as to why we should change the status of our engagement."

This time she smiled at him, bitterly. "It seems you were more intoxicated that night than I originally thought. Has it somehow slipped your clever mind that you were caught with a young noblewoman the night of the ball? A ball that I threw in your honor might I add. There are witnesses to it. You can't deny it."

He shook his head sadly and slowly as his brows knitted together. "No, it has not. My behavior was shameful that night. I cannot nor would I deny it. However, I am a man of flesh and blood, and I make mistakes. I should think that a woman, a Queen, of your character should find it in her heart to forgive a man for his lapses. I promise you mine are few and far between."

She sighed and resisted the urge to press her fingers to her temples. She hated false flattery. "If I were any other woman I might, but being queen, I must remove myself from the tenderness that is typical of my gender. You will find that queens think far more like men than women." She tried to temper her words with a smile.

He nodded empathetically. "I am well aware of your position. I understand what it is like to have the pressures of your people weighing on you day after day. I myself have often had to put aside my own personal feelings for the good of my nation, which is all the more reason why I should think that you would not want to end our relationship."

"I am not quite sure I understand," she said somewhat incredulously.

"Your people see you as their example, their leader," he scooted to the edge of his seat with his eyes focused intensely on her. "As such, they must see that you are willing to forgive those who have wronged you. They must see that you set aside your own feelings for their good. They need a king, a strong king."

She frowned. "I am touched by your . . . concern for my country, but I am strong enough to rule on my own. Besides, you have your own nation to attend to. I'm sure you do not need the strain of governing another."

"It would be no great difficulty. I can guarantee that." His eyes glittered like blades with his barely contained greed. She was beginning to see the layout of his grand scheme. He did not merely want Hyrule. He wanted an empire.

"Still, your worries are unwarranted. I know my people best. I know what is in my country's best interest, and I do not think a marriage between us would be." She suppressed the urge to shift uncomfortably in her chair.

"And I'm sure like any good monarch you would be willing to do whatever it took to ensure those interests, wouldn't you?" He stood up and stared at her with a knowing look on his face.

"I would do what is in the best interest of my country with what means I have," she answered cautiously.

He rested his chin in his hand and cocked his head to the side. "Hmm, I wonder what means you do have at your disposal."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "The same as any other ruler given the circumstances." She could feel her heartbeat picking up.

"Would those entail poisoning and potions?" He began to pace slowly in front of her.

Her eyes followed him, her face never giving away the tide of panic she felt rising up within her. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said indifferently.

"Really?" He paused and walked over to the side of her chair.

She did not flinch away or move from her rigid position. She merely shifted her eyes and face towards him. It would not do to show fear. The moment he saw it he would take full advantage of it.

"I like my wine, Your Majesty, but I know my limits. I did not feel a thing until you refilled my cup. I do not think that is a coincidence." He smiled knowingly down at her as he lowered his face hers to study her reaction.

She raised her eyes to his and made sure not to look away. "I promise you on the blood of my father and his fathers before him I did nothing to your drink that night. I know nothing of those matters." What should she do? What should she do? Her mind raced from one strategy to another. She wasn't used to fighting these kinds of battles. She was used to Councilmen and nobles. Filepus was an entirely different creature altogether. She felt a pang as she wondered what advice Ganondorf would have given have her in this situation. She tried hard not to dwell on that particular sore point at the moment. She had other things to worry her.

He blinked slowly and trailed one finger down the side of her face. "Blood and oaths are not worth much I have found. Just because you yourself did not physically put something into my drink does not mean you did not have someone knowledgeable in those ways do it for you."

"I do not know what put that idea into your head," she breathed, "but what happened to you that night was not of my doing. I did not order for anything to be done. I have given you my answer. I will not marry you." She tried to make her words sound strong and defiant but she was not sure how well she succeeded. Her voice threatened to give out on her. For the first time in a very long time, Zelda Harkinarian was afraid. She thought wistfully on how she should have let Ganondorf kill him that night. She wanted nothing more than to see him die, and it would have particularly pleased her if the Gerudo could have been the one to do it.

"Your claims to truth are not proven, and your kingdom is weak. You are still recovering from a war. You need an ally not an enemy. I can be either." His hand had rested against the back of the chair close to her face.

Her eyes shifted between him and his hand. She thought of the daggers and needles she could call up. She could end him herself. It was tempting. He was threatening war. Either way, there would be war unless she submitted to him, and she could never do that. "I am not sure that there is a difference between the two when it comes to you," she said icily, feeling some reserves of courage flowing through her. She wouldn't kill him not here anyways. She would not have it be said that she had murdered an innocent man.

He smirked at her. "Enemy it is then." He stood up and placed his fists on his hips. His face was twisted into one of pity and delight. It almost seemed as if he would rather take her kingdom by war than by marriage. "You already fought one war. I do not think you or your country will survive another."

"We shall see," she said more confidently than she felt. "Now please get out." She nodded towards the door.

"Good day, Your Majesty," he said as he bowed to her once more and left the room with his promise of war hanging in the air.

Zelda felt the air rush out of her lungs. Her composure crumpled as she let her chin fall against her chest. Nails dug into the arm rests of her chair. A complex of emotions swept through her and left her weak and spent. She thought for sometime about the events that had just transpired. In the end, she could only come to one conclusion. She stood up, crossed the room on unsteady legs, and entered into the secret passageway hidden behind the bookshelf.

* * *

She ran the last few steps to the doorway and pressed her hands desperately against the wall. Her fingers found the frame of the door and worked their way down to the knob. She gave a small cry of joy as she fished the keys out of her pocket and slipped the correct one into the lock. The lock clicked, and she gently pushed the door open. She looked around and saw that everything was still in darkness. She lit the nearest candle with the tip of her finger. She blinked a few time as her eyes adjusted to the sudden influx of light. Moving across the small space, she lit a second.

"Ganondorf," she whispered into the darkness. There was no reply. Only silence and darkness greeted her when she peered around into the aisles made by the bookcases.

"Ganondorf," she repeated more strongly.

Her head moved from side to side as if she would find him hiding away in one of the bookshelves or in a corner of the small room. He couldn't have left by now. They had only spoken a day ago. Surely, he would have stayed on a few days longer to wait for her to come to her senses. Wouldn't he?

"Filepus has threatened war," she said into the air as if he might be making himself invisible to punish her. "I need your help. I need your advice," she continued in a softer voice until it faded into nothing.

She stepped around the chair he had sat in just the other night and into the space where they had slept together for those few nights. The blankets and pillows were still rumpled and strewn about like he had just slept in them.

She stared down at them still half in disbelief. A tear slid down her cheek, which she wiped away angrily. Her eyes blinked rapidly to prevent anymore from falling. "Queens do not cry," she whispered. "I will shed no tears for him." Even as she was cursing him inside of her head, she was slowly sinking to the floor. Her knees touched the soft surface of the blanket and her hands reached out towards the mound of pillows. Before she knew it, she was stretched out on her side and wrapping one of the blankets around her shoulders.

"No tears," she murmured as she drew her knees in close to her chest and turned the side of her face into a pillow.

**Well, I hope you liked this chapter. I have to say that I am much more pleased with this version than the last. It is still not perfect by any means, but I do think it flows much more smoothly. Please let me know your thoughts on it. I always love feedback. Also, if you would like to know what songs kind of inspired this chapter there are two specific songs by Tori Amos. Her cover of "Nights in White Satin" (such a cheesy song but so good!) and her song "Bouncing Off of Clouds." Thanks for reading this or rereading this as the case may be, lol.**


	10. Chapter 10

Taming the Tiger Chapter 10

Ganondorf sat in a darkened corner of the room and watched the other tavern patrons drink and eat. An old man with arms as thick as tree trunks grabbed at a young serving girl and pulled her into his lap. She laughed in delight before playfully swatting at him and moving onto the next table. His golden eyes flitted from one person to the next without much interest. They took no notice of him though he had been there for several hours watching them. A simple spell distorted his appearance enough that he appeared as nothing more than a large and grizzled old man. They saw brown hair instead of red and green eyes instead of gold. They thought his skin was tanned from a life in the sun not because of his heritage though he doubted this far out they had ever even heard of the Gerudo.

He gripped his tankard in one hand and took a drink of the cheap beer they served. He grimaced as the bitter aftertaste stayed on his tongue. It tasted like horse piss to him. The stuff tasted exactly like every other kind of beer he'd had in every other inn he'd been in, but it never made it any better. The beer was always bad, the soup always thin, and the bread always stale. For three months, he had been traveling wherever his fancy might take him. At first, he had utilized his piece of the Triforce to aid him, but soon grew weary of the constant drain. Besides, he had to admit that he missed actually traveling. He was a child of nomads and a part of him would always love wandering down long paths and not knowing where they might lead.

His aimless journeys had taken him to shorelines where the ocean lapped in shades of blue and green and grey. He had entered into the hearts of deep, ancient forests where trees towered overhead like pillars in a cathedral and their leaves crowned them like kings. He had wound his way up mountains where the air grew thin and the body weak, and he could see the whole world as he was sure the Goddesses saw it, tiny and insignificant. His eyes sank down to yellow-brown beer as he lost himself in reminiscing about his recent sites and stories. He had seen many things and drank them all in as if he were a child again. He had reveled in his freedom. It was odd to think that he could not remember exactly how he had wound up where he currently was. His mouth quirked into a smile at the thought that he could be so careless.

The plucking of harp strings drew him out of his reverie. His eyes flew to the fireplace where a minstrel sat playing some mindless tune. It was a small lap harp, worn, old, and crudely made, but the sound coming from it was sweet. He narrowed his eyes in discomfort at the things that sound stirred up inside of him. He slapped the money down on the table, unsure of what the right amount was, and left out of the back door.

The wind hit him hard and cut through the thin material of his ragged clothing. He peered down at his tunic and saw that holes had formed in it. No matter. He could steal another one with little trouble. Still, the wind bothered him for reasons beyond his senses. He stared out from the hill the small inn was positioned on and saw beams of gold and red sweep across the world as the sun sank. It was beautiful but incredibly ordinary. There were a thousand views just like this one all over the wide world. He realized then that he was tired of these kinds of views. He wanted something more exotic and familiar. He knew where he wanted to see the sunset.

The horse gave an irritated snort when he pulled the reigns hard and abruptly as they crested the top of the sand dune. He squinted against the light of the setting sun and stared down into the valley below. He had been riding straight for over a week with little rest and little food. He could have come there by more magical ways, but you gave the Desert the respect she deserved. Coming any other way but by horse seemed wrong to him. He still firmly believed that there was nothing like riding a horse in a head long gallop across the Gerudo Desert.

He could make out a few of red and gold tents pitched in a cluster for the night. Campfires were starting to be lit as night crept in. He would have to abandon his mount for more stealthy means. They would rain arrows down on him the moment they saw him if he weren't careful. He dismounted and turned the animal loose. It would not go far from this spot, and if it did, the women would spot it and take it in. There was nothing that they loved so much as a finely bred horse.

He waited out of sight on the outskirts of the campgrounds for several hours to let night bleed into true black. He watched and waited as the sentries swapped places. He noted who slept in which tent. When he thought that the guards were at their sleepiest, he used what little skill involving shadows he had and wrapped them around him. He crept from pool to pool of shadows until he came to the tent he sought. With one quick look over his shoulder, he pulled back the flap and slipped inside.

Nabooru had her back to him when he entered on silent feet. She was holding a scroll out in front of her and reading it by the light of several candles. He squinted and tried to make out the words her eyes were running over all the while holding his breath so she wouldn't notice he was there.

With a sigh, the Gerudo woman rolled the scroll back up and threw it in with a stack of others. "You can stop hiding now, you big oaf," she said in a tired voice as she turned to him and gave him her signature smile.

He let the shadows unwind from around him and scowled at her much like he had as a child. "How did you know I was here, and how did you know who it was?"

Her smile widened, and it deepened the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. It seemed being leader of the Gerudo had aged her. "Let's just say, I have my ways. You never could hide anything from me; least of all, yourself."

"It seems you haven't changed since I left," he said stiffly as he tried to maintain his composure around her. It was difficult as it had always been. From the time they were children, Ganondorf had always felt like Nabooru could see right to the core of him. It had been part of the reason why they were drawn to each other, and most of the reason why they despised each other.

She tilted her head to the side. "I am not sure I can say the same for you," she replied with heavy-lidded golden eyes that made her look like a bird.

Ganondorf fidgeted unconsciously underneath her perceptive gaze. "I have been through many things, Nabooru."

"So I have heard," she said offhandedly as she turned her back to him and started making a cup of hot tea. The temperature had dropped drastically. "So why have you come here?" she asked as she pushed the cup into his waiting hands. She picked up a silk shawl and wrapped it around her bronze shoulders as she waited on his answer.

"To see my people, and to see how things have been. I heard you made peace with the Hylians," he rumbled, letting her hear his unvoiced displeasure at the decision in his tone.

She raised an eyebrow and smiled arrogantly. "You have seen them now. We have survived no thanks to you and your efforts. I know you are not happy with my choice."

"I only sought to better our circumstances," he said sharply, "and saying I am unhappy about it is an understatement. I always knew you loved the Hylians, Nabooru, but to just surrender to them is extreme even for you."

Her arched brows drew together in a deep scowl as her eyes widened at his words, and he once again saw the young and rash teenager she had once been. She let out a disgusted grunt and tossed the rest of her tea onto the sand. "Say what you like, but you and I both know that in the end you kept that war going for your own selfish purposes. I did what was right for our people. I did what was necessary to ensure our survival. The Queen offered us generous terms."

"What you ensured was their humiliation," he hissed.

Nabooru took a step forward and glared up into his face. "They were already humiliated after your defeat and capture," she said through clenched teeth. "You led them to that. They followed you, and all they got was blood and death for it. There was no glory. There were no riches, and if anything you made things worse for us."

"Better that I at least took the chance to try and gain what should be ours instead of sitting around and waiting for someone to give it to us." He focused his eyes on her as if he just stared at her hard enough she might see the sense of his words.

She scoffed in frustration and stepped away from him. "I am not waiting on anyone to give us anything. I simply want to earn it the right way though I don't expect you to understand that. Besides, the Hylians have nothing to give us." Her eyes went to the precariously stacked mound of scrolls.

"What do you mean?" he questioned, his voice suddenly growing calm and still.

She gave him a look of disbelief. "You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"The Hylians are at war," she said incredulously. "Where have you been?"

"Around," he answered vaguely, "who are they at war with?"

She gave a short bark of laughter. "By Din, you really don't know. They are at war with Holodrum. Filepus left the castle in a huff and a cry of foul play after the Queen broke off their engagement. It was all anyone has been talking about across the whole country for the past few months."

His face fell for a moment as Nabooru looked away. He quickly tried to recover his composure before her eyes returned to his face, but he could tell from her look of confusion that she had seen it. So it seemed that his plan had not worked out so well after all. Zelda was going to war, and this time he did not think she would be able to win.

"You will not aid your newest ally and friend?" he said in as bitter a tone as he could manage.

Nabooru sighed through her pointed nose and shrugged helplessly. "Ganondorf, I can barely manage to hold our people together. I can lend no aid to the Hylian queen."

"So I assume that things do not look well for the Hylians?" he asked carefully.

"At this rate, no. To be honest, they did not have much chance to start with, but what little chance they did have is diminishing rapidly."

"Why?" he asked too quickly.

She gave him a half hearted smile. "Their men are tired. Their supplies are dwindling. The people say that the Queen craves war. They say that she is a war mongerer."

"The masses are always fools," he said dismissively. "Zelda never wanted this war more than anyone else."

His childhood companion's face grew gentle as he looked up at her startled. "And how would you know what the queen of Hyrule wants, Ganondorf?"

"It's common sense," he said uneasily. "No monarch truly enjoys war, much less wants to have one that they know they can't win. She's smarter than that."

"Is that the lie you're going to tell me, eh? I heard you were her prisoner. I heard you died, but I didn't believe it." She shook her head slowly. "You're far too stubborn to die. I am wondering how you got back your Triforce of Power."

"How did you know about that?" He clenched his left hand into a fist.

"There is no other way you could have survived that wound I heard the Hero dealt you, and there is no other way you could have laid low for this long without someone spotting you. I'm just wondering how you are going to explain how you got it back."

Ganondorf said nothing but met her gaze unflinchingly. Let her think what she wanted.

"Hmm, you don't have to tell me. It's plainly written on your face. There is only one person who would have been capable of returning it to you, and now I'm just left to wonder why. Did you have those wicked old women brainwash her?"

He bit his tongue against a retort, but his scowl deepened. He would not discuss his relationship with Zelda with _her._

Nabooru took a moment to study him, smirking to herself all the while at his discomfiture. "I'll take that as a no. Well, if she gave it back to you without blackmail, bribery, brainwashing, or anything else from your bag of underhanded tricks it must have been something extremely powerful." She narrowed her eyes at his continued silence. "You can admit it to me. I'm not going to make fun of you and run all over camp screaming it at the top of my lungs though the idea is tempting."

"Why haven't you announced my presence to the others?" he finally asked, both out of curiosity and hope that it might change the subject.

"Because that would accomplish nothing except you would be dead. It would not bring back all those that we lost, and besides. . ." she paused and dropped her eyes to the sand before looking back up at him with a rueful smile, "we were not always like this. We were not always rivals and enemies. Now back to the topic we were discussing. How did you manage to convince the queen of Hyrule to return your piece to you?"

He swallowed to buy himself a moment to think. He knew that look in her eyes. She wasn't going to stop pestering him until he gave her an answer that pleased her. "My natural charm and agreeableness," he said smoothly.

"I'm sure charm was involved, but there is more to it than that."

"The queen and I did come to an understanding. She saw in the end that it was not right to deprive me of what was rightfully mine." The words sounded flat and insincere even to his own ears. The slight tic of Nabooru's eyebrow showed him that she did not buy it for a second.

"An understanding?" she said skeptically. "Is that what they are calling it now-a-days? Fine, don't admit it to me. You don't have to it. I can tell that you love her. You're just too much of a stubborn ass to say so in front of me." She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head at his bullheadedness.

"And how could you possibly know what I feel for her?" he asked. What she said was true of course, but he had never liked it when people presumed to know what he felt or thought.

His oldest friend and enemy gave him a strange look full of what appeared to be regret, sadness, and disbelief all mixed into one. "Because," she said softly, "there was a time when I would have given almost anything to have you look like that when you thought of me as you do when you think of her."

"Nabooru," he said uncertainly, tension and uneasiness mounting in the small, confined space.

"Bah," she exclaimed as she flapped her hand at him. "I'm getting soft and stupid in my old age. Don't worry, Ganondorf, I'm not harboring any hidden feelings for you. After all, I said _there was a time_. It has long since passed."

"Hmph, for once, we feel the same."

She unfolded her arms and spread them out. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

He gave her a puzzled look. "What are you expecting me to do?"

"You are still as big a fool as ever," she said as she walked towards him and started pushing him out of the tent. "Go to her. She needs you. Just because I can't forgive you doesn't mean she won't. Now quit wasting your time, and more importantly mine, and _go_."

He saw her flash one quick smile over his shoulder before he stumbled out of the tent and landed on his knees in the sand. He gave a brief look around to make sure no one saw him and got to his feet. The night sky was black and full of stars, but if his calculations were right dawn would be coming in about three hours. The patrol guards were circling around the area of the camp tirelessly. He would wait until they finished the next circuit and then slip out.

He waited ten more minutes before the guards had made a complete circuit around him. He gathered the shadows around him once more and glided across the borders. He went several yards before he dropped the shadows like an old cloak and spotted his horse. He took the reins in one hand and stared at them hard. He stayed close to the camp for a few more minutes as he mulled over his plans. He cursed under his breath, let go of the reins, and slapped the horse on its rump to send it running back towards the Gerudo . He would need to reach her quicker than a horse could carry him, and he would need a disguise. A very good one.

* * *

Zelda surveyed the grim scene in front of her with her hand covering her brow against the light of the harsh sun. She shifted nervously in the saddle, feeling her sore muscles groan in protest. Her army was slowly losing ground again as Filepus's army overpowered them. There was a sea of men sprawling out in front of her, and too few of them belonged to her. Too many of them belonged to Filepus. The battle was drawing to an end as the sun began to set. The ground was too treacherous to fight at night.

She gripped the reins in a tight fist and bit the inside of her cheek in frustration. Another day ending in another bitter loss of territory. The queen became lost in her thoughts for a few long heartbeats until a small voice interrupted them.

Her head jerked in the direction of the sound. A squire, a boy of no more than twelve or thirteen, stood several feet in front of her horse. He had his head down with eyes boring into the ground and his worn boots kicking at the dirt.

"Yes?" she asked impatiently, trying her best to hold her temper in check.

"K-king Filepus wishes to meet with you, Your Majesty," he mumbled as he continued to stare at his feet.

"What?" she said harshly, urging her horse closer to the messenger.

"The king of Holodrum seeks an audience with you."

"Why?"

"I-I was told he wished to discuss the war, milady," he whispered, his voice giving up and dying on him.

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the sudden offer. "When would he care to meet?"

"Now."

She blew out a breath. She had expected and dreaded that answer. The queen tried to think of what the possible risks might be of meeting with him. There was of course the possibility of assassination, but she had her armor to protect her well enough for that and knights. If nothing else he might wish to call a temporary truce to give both their men respite from the fighting. She mulled the idea over a minute longer before nodding to herself. "Alright. Tell his messenger that I agree to meet with him as soon as he pleases, but it must be in _my _tent. Is that understood?"

The boy nodded shyly and then dashed towards the front lines. She watched him, trying to spy who the Holodrummer delivering the message might be. When she lost sight of him, she shook her head and started towards her temporary quarters.

The royal blue canvas tent was situated closer to the front lines than what her Council had liked, but Zelda had insisted. The men needed to see her, to know that she was willing to risk her own life and not just theirs. She was not completely comfortable being so near to the fighting, but she knew that every bit of morale helped. It was easy for the soldiers to lose heart in the given circumstances. They needed all the strength they could get.

She dismounted and ordered a foot soldier to remove her horse of its tack and wipe her down for the night. Zelda did not have the strength or the patience to tend to it herself tonight. Her thoughts were churning with the upcoming meeting with Filepus. She felt sick as she went inside and took a seat at her small writing table. For a moment, she considered removing some of her armor but thought better of it. Let him see her in her breastplate and vambraces with the blood and dust of the battlefield smeared onto her skin and into her hair. Perhaps it would instill a little fear and respect into him though she doubted it. Besides, the time for impressing him with her beauty was long since past.

Her hands stilled as she recalled that time that seemed like centuries ago. It was just a jumble of memories now. A flash of golden eyes and bright, red hair as it caught the light. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut.

"I don't have time for this," she murmured to herself. "I don't have time for you." There was no point in thinking on those things. She had a war to fight.

As she waited for her enemy, she decided to prepare herself a drink. She slammed a wooden cup on the table and liberally filled it with the most potent wine she possessed. The sour taste made her smack her lips in displeasure, but it made up for it when she felt the heat loosen her muscles.

She was half-way through the cup when the flap of tent opened and in stepped Filepus. He took a look around her modest accommodations before striding towards her small table and staring her down with his hands clasped behind his back.

She took another sip of her wine and didn't bother to stand in his presence. They studied each other as she drew out her drink. He looked much the same as he had the day he had departed if a little worse for wear. His eyes were still sharp and shrewd, but his hair was not so meticulously groomed and seemed to have a touch of gray to it. There were also more fine lines around his mouth as he gave her a smirking grin. His armor was light-weight and so highly polished that it reflected the candlelight in the room and hurt her eyes to look upon it. It was apparent he had remained a safe and reasonable distance away from the fighting.

"You look well," she offered stiffly, finally setting her cup down to look at him fully.

"Thank you," he replied, not returning the compliment.

"Would you care to sit?" She gestured towards the other flimsy stool across from her where her booted feet had previously been propped.

He nodded in gratitude and sat down in it easily. "Thank you," he said again, waving away her unvoiced offer of wine. "I trust you are in good health?"

She resisted the urge to laugh at his pleasantries. "I am as well as can be expected given the current situation in which I find myself. What brings you to my side of the field?"

"Cutting right to the chase, are we?"

She lifted an eyebrow at him. "Yes, time is of the essence at this point, and we both know you didn't come here to inquire about my health."

He smiled condescendingly at her as if her quaint ways amused him to no end."I suppose you are right. I have come to speak with you on the matter of the war."

"Obviously."

"I wish to offer terms ."

"Go on."

He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, feigning to think over his words carefully. Zelda had no doubt he'd rehearsed them numerous times before he even made the offer of this meeting. Filepus never did anything without thoroughly thinking things through. That is what made him so dangerous aside from the huge army he commanded.

At last, he settled his hands on the top of the table and laid them flat in supplication. "We both know how this war is going, Zelda. We both know what the eventual outcome will be."

"You do really? Because last I checked you were not a prophet nor had you one employed under you," she snarled, already disliking the tone he was setting. Her hopes for a temporary truce evaporated.

"One does not need to have the talent of reading the future to know how this will go. You are hopelessly outnumbered. Your men are overtaxed and undersupplied. You only postpone the inevitable. I will defeat you," he said softly and reasonably.

His calm only made her angrier, and she wanted to pour another cup of wine if only to have the satisfaction of throwing it in his face. She swallowed her anger and indignation and tried to make her features as serene as his. "You underestimate the mettle of my men and me, milord, and that is a very dangerous mistake. If you have come here simply to tell me what my odds are I'm afraid you wasted your time."

"You are right. I should not mince words so. I seek to end this thing as quickly as possible."

"So what are these terms you are offering?"

"I will stop the attacks if Hyrule surrenders wholly and acknowledges me as its rightful and true conqueror."

Her face pinched up in anger as she started to speak.

"And," he continued, watching her face as he spoke, "you rescind your refusal of my marriage proposal."

"What does my marrying you have to do with surrendering?" she choked, forcing the words out of her closing throat and over her thick tongue.

That wicked gleam returned to his eyes as they turned into slits in his face. "You do not think I know you had some hand in my downfall that night so you could worm your way out of our betrothal? I don't know how you did it, but I know you did. You humiliated me, and that is not something I suffer. Not at all. Those are my terms. Accept them or do not. It is up to you, my dear."

Her features went cold at his threat as his words sank in. He still sought to control and possess her out of wounded pride. That was the nature of this beast in front of her. He walked and spoke like a man, but when it came to his desires, they ruled him like an animal's or a child's. "I am afraid that I find those terms unacceptable and unreasonable. I am sorry you have wasted your time, milord."

He sighed in disappointed resignation as if her answer was expected but unwelcome. "I see. I feared you might say that. You leave me no choice then but to continue this terribly predictable war and crush you. I am sorry it has come to this."

He stood slowly to leave, and Zelda did the same.

"No, you're not," she said with conviction, letting distaste color the tone of her voice. "You have relished every moment of this. Now please go, the squire will lead you back to your men."

He gave her one last parting smile, full of venom and the surety that her defeat was imminent. "Sleep well, Your Majesty. It is likely one of the last few nights you are to get."

With those last foreboding words, he exited her tent with a swish of cloth and left the air where he had been standing feeling icy in his wake. The queen stood there, trying to keep the trembling in her hands from traveling up into the rest of her body. The truth of his words frightened her more than she wanted to admit. He would crush her, and there was nothing she could do about it if she didn't accept his terms.

She considered them honestly for a brief moment before rejecting them again. No, better that Hyrule be burned to the ground, and she killed then bow to the likes of him.

The next three days passed much the same as the previous months had with further defeats and retreats of the Hylian army against their more numerous adversary. Zelda was sitting outside of her tent when Link found her. When he approached her, it was evident that the battle was wearing him down. His clothes were tattered and torn and his armor dented and battered from the many men he'd fought in her name. His sword was still gripped in his left hand, and he did not bother to sheathe it when he stopped in front of her.

Gone was the timid and almost shy boy, she'd come to expect, and in his place was a man more potent and dangerous than any she'd ever seen. It was clear, that war and battle were his element and his natural habitat. He was confident and at ease though clearly tired from his trials. His eyes were sharp and the dark blue of threatening thunder clouds. He was leaner than she recalled from their first meetings that seemed centuries in the past. There was something feral and wild to him.

He nodded to her respectfully, but he did not fall to one knee before her as he might once have. "Your Majesty," he greeted.

"Link," she answered, eying this incarnation of him in front of her.

He shook his head slowly and sadly before spitting to his left and trying to find the right words to address her with. He had always had a problem finding the right things to say when it came to her. He could give many a stirring speech to the common soldier without fail, but all his wits seemed to flee when he was before someone of a higher station. He was a warrior. That was what he had been born and shaped to be. Politics sat on him like an ill-fitted suit, a dead man's clothes that he had thrown on at the last minute to fulfill a role that he had no idea how to play. "Things are going badly for us," he said at last.

She gave him a smile full of bitter mirth. "Tell me something I do not know, General."

"Being the Bearer of Wisdom, I'm not sure that that is possible. At least, not from the likes of me."

"Would you like to come in and sit?" She pulled back the tent flap and gestured inside.

He nodded in agreement and followed her in. When they were safely inside, she took a seat in a small, foldable chair. He remained standing as if any thought of taking respite while his men were dying outside caused him great discomfort.

He sighed and ran a hand through his tousled blond hair that had not been washed in several days. Her own must look even worse though it did not especially bother the queen at the moment.

"They press us constantly. They have even begun raiding at night," he said in exasperation. "I do not how much longer we can hold out. I do not know what else can be done. I have exhausted any ideas of strategy I might have. The men are ready to throw down their arms in weariness. They are ready to be done with this."

"And you?" she asked dangerously, already knowing the answer before it came from between his thin lips.

He gritted his teeth in anger and aggravation, the animal peaking through for only a breath. "My sword never rests. I cannot tell you how many men I have cut down, and more come in their place. For every one I slay, three more spring up. I would fight on if I knew it would do some good, but the men . . .I think are at their end."

She nodded in understanding, the full weight of his words resting heavily on her plated shoulders like millstones. "Yes, I sense that too."

"Then what are we to do, Your Grace? What would you have me do? Ask me anything, and I will try to the best of my ability to see it done." His words were full of desperation and hope that she might pull them out of the fire as she once had. She was their queen and their voice of reason and prophecy. She was their greatest protector against all enemies.

Zelda sighed in resignation. "I wish I knew, but my own powers and resources are starting to wane and fail. Spells I have tried to push them back no longer work as they once did. They either have learned to circumvent them or wait until they go out. Din's Fire and Nayru's Love are now only temporary annoyances to them. I have tried to scry and dream of some way out, but no path has shown itself."

He growled in rage and swung his sword in a mock swipe, not caring at the impropriety of the action. All semblance of courtesy was gone from him, only leaving the wild thing that truly was underneath. Zelda saw then what his piece had bestowed upon him. In many ways it was greater and lesser than what her piece gave her. He would have charged at them all single-handedly against all odds if he knew that his death would have been a greater gift to them than his life. She was suddenly ashamed of herself as she recalled her selfish decision to turn aside Filepus's terms. Had their positions been reversed, Link would not have hesitated to lay down his arms and give himself over to the whims of his enemy if it meant saving his kingdom and people from destruction, but she found that she could not be truly sorry for or regret her decision. Her sense of self-preservation and dignity were too great for that. She was a queen and a woman before she was a martyr.

"It is like we are some poor animal fleeing from a great cat who is so close that we can feel the heat of its breath down the nape of our necks." The rage died in his eyes to be replaced by an infinite sorrow.

She pitied him because he felt not for himself but for Hyrule. She smiled bittersweetly at the image and the memory his words conjured.

"So what do we do, milady?"

She stared at him. "We wait and pray to be delivered from the tiger's jaws."

* * *

Ganondorf stood on a hillside, surveying the battle from afar. It seemed that things had only gotten worse since Nabooru had last received news from the queen. The two warring armies were encamped in a shallow valley between Castle Town and the mountain range of Death Mountain. It was here that the Hylians were making their last stand after having been pushed all the way from the Zora River those few months ago. Long gone was the resplendent army he had faced. There were no proud banners waving in the air or brazen trumpets blowing in defiance. The men below him were not the disciplined and hailed knights he had encountered. They had been replaced by tired farmers and peasants who were fighting because there was no one left to defend them. Their true army had been torn apart, a shadow of its former glory.

The sight below him was even direr than he had originally suspected. It was clear that this was where the Hylians were making their last stand, and the only reason why they continued to fighting was because the same fate would befall them even if they didn't. The situation caused a twinge of sympathy in his stomach that he quickly stamped out. It served the pampered cattle right. Let them live and fight with no hope of things ever getting better. Let them drink deeply of their comeuppance. The boy was down there too, that swaggering, green imp. Ganondorf was sorely tempted to let the whole country fall if only for the satisfaction of watching the Hero die in futility. He struggled to keep his anger in line and not spin on his heel and leave them to their fate.

There were only two reasons he had come back. The first was that he would allow no man, least of all Filepus, know the joy and triumph of conquering Hyrule if it was not himself. The second one was much more distressing to him. There should have been no second reason at all, but there was as much as he loathed to admit it. The latter justification was infuriating, and it galled him to think he had returned for anything other than his own ends. Zelda more than any of them deserved what she got. She deserved to be defeated and humiliated as he had been by her. He should take joy in seeing her crown torn from her brow and her fall to her knees in submission, but he could not despite the fact that he had tried to will himself to many, many times these past few months. He actually grew sick at the thought of what Filepus would do to her when he defeated her army at last. The Gerudo highly doubted that he would imprison her in a suite of rooms and visit with her to trade quips as she had done with him. The best Ganondorf could hope for in those circumstances was that either she or the Hero would end her life and spare her from the Holodrummer's devices. That was why he had come back.

He moved through down the sloping hill and slowly into the ranks of men. The fighting had stopped along the outer edges though it still raged in the center. The men were so tired they did little more than look at up his passing. He chose to travel on foot for a good ways to save his strength in case he needed it later, and he was sure he would. He had expended more than he would have liked to get there as fast as he had.

He stepped lightly around dead men and dying horses, skirting around the piles of bodies and refuse. The wind whipped his robes around him and caused his eyes to water. It reminded much of the desert, harsh and unforgiving. He struggled to breathe through the scarf wrapped around his face. He looked around him and only saw desolation. The green grass beneath his feet that he had once so coveted was dry and withered. The trees that he had once dreamed of lounging under as the master Hyrule had been cut down for kindling and barricades.

He ignored the calls of dying men who cried out to him and begged him for water or mercy and kept walking towards the churning center of the battlefield where he had a feeling Zelda would be. He traveled some distance before the number of men around him grew thicker and more numerous. They bumped into him and spun away in confusion and in expectation to see another knight coming at them. He must have seemed like a phantom to them coming to retrieve the dead and carry them down into the underworld in his dark robes and half-veiled face. He scanned the crowd looking for her but couldn't see her from his current position.

He focused in on any traces of magic he could detect. It took several minutes of filtering through the mundane thoughts and spirits of the thousands of men around him before he picked up on something that might have been her. Ganondorf headed towards it, turning and spinning on his heels to avoid a spear or a sword. Things were so tightly packed that often the only time an opening was found was when a man fell down dead. He could smell their sweat and blood clinging to them, their fear permeating the air. It appalled and excited him. He should be out here amongst the slaughter laying them all low with sword and spells.

He continued walking in the general direction where he felt a faint pull. The fighting started to thin as the lines of men grew more ragged and dispersed. He could even make out a few colorful tents of the commanders some ways off. His eyes narrowed as a shock ran through him. He was close. He stopped walking to take stock of his surroundings. If she was here she would be noticeable almost immediately. Growling in frustration, he looked around him to spot a flash of golden hair or a burst of magic. All he found were more soldiers hacking away futilely at each other. Then he spotted something. Oh yes, there was golden hair and magic, but it did not belong to the one he originally sought. The boy was several feet in front of him slashing at numerous foes that Ganondorf could not see. The sword was a silver ribbon that cut the air into slices and sent the screams of men up into the atmosphere. He smiled to himself, a quick flash of a wickedness that no one else could.

The boy was impressive. He would give him that. The Hylian held several opponents at bay, never allowing a single strike to hit his armor, but as soon as one fell more came. He was slowly being forced to retreat under sheer numbers. He was backing right into Ganondorf.

The Gerudo stood and waited for the trap to spring itself. It was perfect. He had not even planned it, and the boy was not even aware of his presence. He seemed oblivious to the other piece right next to him in his current predicament. So the former Dark Lord waited, using some of his magic to put up a shield that would discourage any fool soldier to try and take a swing at him. The last thing he needed was for some blundering knight to spoil his element of surprise. He had come back for Zelda, but this merely sweetened the deal.

One large hand dipped down into his waist band where a long dagger was tucked away and hidden from sight. He unsheathed it and slid it up his sleeve. Just a little closer and the trap would enclose around the idiot's neck.

Link moved back a step and stumbled in exhaustion, his hand reaching out behind him to stop his fall. Ganondorf saw the opportunity and seized it. His hand flew out and grabbed the Hylian by his neck, hauling him back up to his feet and drawing him near. The hero yelped in surprise and started to struggle, legs kicking out and attempting to turn him around and face his attacker. It was no use though. Ganondorf moved his hand around the front of Link's neck and squeezed so tightly it almost cut off the air to that pretty, little golden head.

"You didn't think I'd forgotten about you, boy?" he hissed into a pointed ear.

He watched in satisfaction as Link started to fight again tried to speak, only half strangled sounds escaping from his parted lips. The larger man spared a look around to make sure the spell was still holding and was satisfied to see that no one around him seemed inclined to interfere.

He let the dagger slide into his palm and pressed the point to Link's exposed, white throat. The young man tensed and strove to leap away, but Ganondorf's grip held fast. "No, no, you're not getting away just yet. I have a debt to you that needs to be repaid. Soon you'll know what it's like to stabbed and left to bleed out on the ground like a gutted animal.

He let his smile spread from ear to ear as he felt Link try to swallow in desperation and his hot breaths quicken in fear. He put more pressure behind the tip of the knife and watched as a bright, red bead of blood appeared. He steadied his hand and drew in a deep breath. He would make this slow and deliberate. There would be no clean, quick slices for this one. He wanted to watch those blue eyes widen with panic before slowly growing dim as the life leaked from the body.

He adjusted the angle of his hand in preparation to dig the blade deeper into that tender flesh when a dreadful twanging split the air moments before he felt something go flying past his head. He cursed and looked up to see someone with a bow drawn and another arrow notched and aimed directly at him.

He snarled and wondered briefly how it was possible someone had gotten past his defensive spell to work up the will to attempt such a thing.

"Drop the dagger or I'll put an arrow through you, and this time I won't miss!" a dreadfully familiar voice said as she loped closer to get a better shot.

Then he knew exactly how and why his attacker had seen past his spell.

"Stay out of this!" he growled, gripping the hilt tighter.

The sound of his voice made her pause and the bow lowered for a half second before she raised it again and fixed the arrow tip right on him. "You know I can't do that," she answered.

"You wouldn't dare," he spat.

"Is that something you really want to test?"

He saw the set of her shoulders and the trembling in her hands, but it was the determination in her eyes that let him know that she was not bluffing.

"Why?" The point of the dagger dipped for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.

"Because I need him to help me win this battle," she replied.

Ganondorf laughed. "Truly? I think there is little chance of that even with the boy." _No_, he thought bitterly, _you need him because then who would you have to manipulate? _

"Let him go," she ordered.

A tense moment passed as he considered his options. He could kill Link and try his chances with her. He knew she had enchanted the bow and arrows for increased accuracy and speed. Still, she was at very close range, and he wasn't sure he could deflect them with his own magic. He hadn't returned to Hyrule just to die by her hand. He hated her for this. He deserved his revenge and justice for what had been done to him. Blood for blood. That was the payment of the Desert. He had every right to take the boy's life. Yet there was some grudging part of him that admired her for her actions, wrong though they might be. Here she was, a queen without any sort of combat training out in the middle of a battlefield with nothing but her own wits and magic to protect her.

She raised her eyebrows in impatience, signaling for him to make his decision.

He let out an enraged growl and roughly shoved Link forward as far away from him as he could. The hero let out a cry of surprise and relief and staggered forward. Ganondorf danced back a few steps as the Hylian turned to face him with one hand around his neck and the other gripping his sword. His eyes were dark with murderous fury as he took one step forward.

"Don't even think about it," the queen snarled behind both of them as she trained her arrow on Link.

Link shot her a confused glance. "He tried to kill me," he explained calmly.

"And you killed him, now let's be done with this whole mess. I have better things to do than watch over you two like a mother hen," Zelda said in a tired voice as she hesitantly let the taut bowstring grow slack.

Ganondorf glared at her and put as much distance as he could between himself and the two of them. With a glance, Zelda sent Link away though he did it unwillingly with a baleful backwards glance at the Gerudo as he waded back out into the battle.

The queen approached him slowly like a trainer with skittish colt.

"Let's go somewhere where we can speak privately," she murmured, not quite meeting his eyes, all of her earlier bravado gone.

"Where?"

"My tent." She turned and pointed off in the distance to one of the colored tents he had noticed earlier. Zelda started walking swiftly towards it and left him to follow behind her.

The ground around her encampment was muddy and torn with the churning of soldiers' boots and horses' hooves. He could not see her mount though surely she must have had one at some point in all this mess. The material of it had once been the finest anyone could find but was now full of holes and stained beyond redemption. Still, there was no mistaking the royal air about it that said no commoner dwelled within.

She lifted the flap and nodded inside. He ducked and entered, taking note of the barren surroundings. There was a cot in the corner and a scarred trunk with a map rolled out on top weighed down by four heavy candlesticks. There was also a small folding table with two chairs. It was all a far cry from the luxury he remembered from his stay at her castle. It seemed even Hyrule's queen was feeling the pinch of war on her purse strings.

She set her bow in the corner and spun on her heel to stare up at him. Her violet eyes were keen and intent on his face as if she were seeing him for the first time, like she was memorizing every last detail of it. "You've come back."

"Yes, I have."

"It certainly took you long enough," she said in an accusing tone, flexing her hands inside her leather gloves.

"Better late than never as they say."

She narrowed her eyes at him as if she was considering disagreeing with him on that point but thought better of it. "So where have you been?"

"Around," he answered evasively, not truly sure how to answer the question. "My travels are of no consequence at the moment."

"And why did you come back?" she asked in a low and dangerous voice.

"Because it is obvious to me that you need my help," he looked up at the ceiling and gestured to the sparse surroundings and the sounds of battle going on around them.

One side of her mouth turned up into a bitter smirk. "Well, thank you. I am so grateful you would go out of your way to aid my country in her hour of need." She turned her back to him and stared down at the map in front of her.

He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder and make her face him but stopped half way there. His fingers clenched into a fist and dropped to his side. "Zelda. . . "

"You said you came back to help? Prove it." She flicked two fingers forward to signal him to come stand at her side.

He walked up behind her and looked over her shoulder to study a close-up of the eastern mountain range. Her shoulders stiffened visibly at his proximity and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose. He could feel Power calling out to Wisdom as it filled the air with a strange buzzing pressure. He clasped his hands behind his back to keep from placing them at her hips.

"What would you have me do?" he whispered into her ear as he lowered his head to speak with her, blowing his breath against her cheek and neck.

She leaned forward with her hands splayed flat against the surface of the trunk to try and put as much distance between them as possible. "We are concentrated in this little area here," she said as she indicated a small pocket at the base of the mountains. "We cannot hope to win this with numbers or even strategy anymore. I have tried my best to out maneuver and out think him, but he cut me off at every turn. My army is not what it was when it faced you as I'm sure you have seen. Our last chance at victory is to sever the head of the beast. We have to kill Filepus. It is the only way to stop this."

"And how can we accomplish that with an entire army backing him?"

She licked her lips in preparation. "I have been thinking of this for some time now, and I believe that if we joined together we would be stronger."

"And how are we going to join together?"

Zelda held up her hands with a dagger in her right and her left empty. "As I told you before, the two strongest types of magic are life and death, sex and blood. The first one is not an option so blood must suffice." Then she drew the tip of the dagger across her open palm, never flinching or wincing at the pain. Her was face was cold and immobile as the blood welled up.

He eyed her wound for a few moments. He did not like the idea. He was not sure what would happen if they joined like that. It was too volatile and unpredictable. What if she tried to take his piece from him again?

She waited patiently with solemn eyes as he debated whether to do as she asked or not. If he did this there was no telling what sort of consequences might follow it. If he did not there was no other hope for Hyrule's salvation in sight. He sighed and took the knife from her. He dragged it across his hand in one fluid movement, only registering the pain until after he had handed the knife back to her.

She returned it to the sheath at the small of her back and offered him her injured hand. Taking a deep breath, he took her hand and braced himself. The effect of it was immediate and devastating. The air in his lungs whooshed out in a single gasp that left him shaking and weak. His legs trembled and his knees turned to water. He could feel the ground beneath his feet tilting and quaking as if the earth had been torn loose from its axis. Power and Wisdom vied for supremacy inside of his all too small body. The fibers of his being stretched and groaned from the mixture churning within him. He could feel the magic of it seeping from his skin and flooding the air around him. He breathed it in and it scalded his throat with golden heat. Madness was a thin horizon before him that was looming closer and closer.

A thousand possibilities and lifetimes bloomed and died in front of his eyes. Colors that had no name or meaning flashed through his brain and left burning trails in their wake. Dimly, he heard Zelda cry out in pain at his side as it took hold of her. He tried to command his fingers to unweave themselves from hers, but they refused to obey. They were fused together with a substance stronger than steel.

His knees buckled and hit the dirt, pain went shooting up through his thighs to his stomach and then his heart that was sputtering and wheeling inside his chest. He prayed that it would give out and let sweet darkness take him, but some greater force willed it to keep pumping blood that had turned to lava through his veins. He struggled to a take a breath, like breaking the surface of the ocean only to be sucked down into the currents again. He sank and sank through the earth and space and time until he hit the void at the bottom where all things were born and died in ceaseless cycles.

He saw a great demon lord before him with eyes glittering and burning like coals in his face and flame-like hair swirling around his blackened and cracked skin. It stopped and observed him with a lethal curiosity. One huge hand reached out and came towards him with grasping fingers that engulfed him and swallowed him whole.

He saw a flash of blue and white as some winged being hovered at its side with something like pity in her eyes before it took and turned him to ash. He yelled and it transformed it into a scream and then a shriek so piercing that he wasn't sure it was coming from him.

Then suddenly the pain stopped, and he was left cold and naked in its absence. He was a mote spinning in the consuming darkness around him. He panicked and his lungs constricted painfully. He fought with his hands clawing at his throat to rip open a way for the air to spill inside and bathe and heal his burns.

Blood spilled hot and red over his fingers but nothing soothed him. He turned and twisted himself into fruitless knots trying to find a way to escape, to somehow move himself from this place.

A memory came floating up from the depths of his fevered mind, overpowering and stunning in its lucidity.

_He was a man now. A true man. Not some half-child wandering clumsily through the world with flailing limbs and a cracking voice. He was king in name and truth, and he sat his throne with all the dignity and force he could command. Supplicants came and kneeled before him, keeping their eyes lowered and their voices only above a whisper. He said nothing to them as they offered him jewels and silks and promises as soft and rotten as their sycophantic hearts. They were all weak. They were all cowards and liars. They were all thieves of the lowest sort who had taken nothing out of strength but out of deceit. They sickened him, and if they were insects, he would crush them all under the heel of his boot. _

_He dismissed their gifts with a declining of his head and a wave of his hand. It was trash, rubbish, worthless at best. What did a desert warlord need of pretty baubles and words laced with poison? What good did a bolt of silk do him? Would it make the rains come? Would it put food in the bellies of his sisters? Would it keep the winds from blowing into their fortress and tents? Would it make the Lady of the Sands grant them mercy? No, silk and jewels were all fine things for Hylian men to dress their women in, but it did the Gerudo no good. _

_He hid his contempt through a thin veil of courtesy. He recalled not their names or stations and paid no mind to their wishes for his continued good health and long reign. None of it made any difference to him. They were only spoiled cattle coming to low at him. Later after they had all retreated to their quarters, he took the time to pick through the things they had given him. Only one stood out. It was not a precious stone or metal. It was not a priceless vase or bit of cloth. He ran his fingers idly over the hide in front of him and wondered who had killed the beast to claim this prize. The black and orange of its stripes both delighted and disgusted him to think that it might have died at the end of a Hylian spear. _

_He stopped his inspection when the light tread of boots on the stone floor entered into his chambers. "I am not in the mood for company," he said curtly without turning around. "If it is one of the Hylian envoys tell him his request can wait until morning. I am tired of their kneeling and groveling."_

"_I can assure you I am no Hylian envoy," a familiar voice said._

_He turned and saw Nabooru leaning against the door frame with her arms folded across her chest and an indulgent smile on her face. _

"_What is it you need?" _

_She laughed at the tone of his voice and walked in without invitation, golden eyes roving over his new collection of gold and rubies and emeralds. "Since when do I have to have a need to see an old friend, eh?" _

"_Nabooru, I am king now and that-"_

"_That's a beautiful pelt," she observed, cutting him off mid-sentence. _

"_Yes, it is," he said wistfully, his hand finding it again without thinking. His eyes lost their intense focus and went hazy._

"_What are you thinking of?" The young woman tilted her head to the side to study his thoughtful expression. _

"_Do you remember when I went into the Oasis?" he asked, his voice dreamy._

"_Oh yes, how could I forget? We all called you the Prince of Tigers for months afterwards. Some of the women still call you that behind your back."_

_His face contorted into a frown as a thought crossed his mind. "I think back on it sometimes, and I wonder why it did not kill me. It would have been so easy for it to crush my throat in its jaws." _

"_Because you did not fight it," she said simply as if the answer were plain as day for him to see._

"_What?" he asked sharply, being thrown from his daydreams by her answer._

"_The tiger did not kill you because you did not fight it," she repeated more slowly. "It knew it could kill you, and when you did not run or charge it, it knew that you were aware of that as well. You would be surprised at how much trouble in life can be avoided by simply not fighting the current and letting it take you where it will." _

He came back from that still-point in time to the spinning blackness around him. His hands were sticky from the drying blood and the air refused to give him sustenance. His heart quickened again as the thought of not breathing. He tucked his knees to his chest in frustration until he realized that he was not dead or dying despite the lack of oxygen in his lungs. He went still and let his muscles go slack. His fingers uncurled themselves and his joints loosened. Relief surged through him as he let his will go and decided to let this tide take him where it pleased.

His eyes flew open, and the light of the sun was so bright that he squinted and raised his hand against it. His head was pounding like a Goron wardrum, but his mind felt clearer than it had in a long time. His mouth was dry as he sucked in a huge breath that filled his lungs to bursting, and he let it out in one long laugh.

* * *

She clasped his hand with hers and let their blood mingle. Electricity shot up her arm from their laced fingers and sizzled through her bloodstream. It hit every nerve ending in her body and set her alight. The center of her chest suddenly constricted and grew tight as if a fist were squeezing her heart. A strangled, dry sob escaped her throat as she tried to draw a gasping breath. Wisdom resonated wildly within her. All of its strength and energy pouring through her and out of her. At once, her brain was flooded with a thousand possibilities and scenarios. She lived a thousand lifetimes in the blink of an eye. The images were sharp and jagged like shattered glass that scraped the surface of her soft mind and left it bleeding. It was both terrible and magnificent.

Dimly, she registered a painful groan from Ganondorf at her side. His hand was gripping hers so tightly it had gone numb, and she hadn't even realized it. His piece responded to her presence and attention and hummed within her conscience, stirring the storm inside of her to new heights. She saw more now than just the past and future of what might be, she saw what she could be with Power. She saw the temptation of what ultimate mastery could bring her. She could end wars with a thought. She could lay waste to castles and cities with a nod of her head. If she took both Power and Wisdom, Courage would stand no chance. It would fall before her as it should. Courage was weak and useless. It was a commodity possessed by the common soldier. It was something so low even dumb beasts held something akin to it. She also knew in that instant if she acted on these thoughts and desires, she would lose herself. She would go mad as so many in the royal family had done before her. She would lose all friends and allies. She would see only enemies and rivals, and the only face she would love would the one in the mirror.

"Ride it," she heard a voice command next to her.

She turned her head, slowly, painfully, to look up at the towering figure beside her. She squinted against the light he was throwing off. Pulses of red and gold radiated from him. His eyes danced like flames in his face.

"What?" she asked in confusion. Who was this strange apparition before her?

"Ride the Power or it will consume you," he said in a strained voice and pinned her with those eyes like torches. "Sink into it, but do not become it. Listen to your piece. It will guide you."

She turned back to face the field before where men wavered like shadows cast by a dying campfire. They were feeble things beneath their steel shells. Only flesh and blood that could be torn asunder, and bone that could be broken and crushed.

She took a deep breath and did as he said. She dove into it, and the visions took her. She could feel Wisdom shining out from her, breathing through every pore of her skin. She felt everything. The land. The stones. The grass. The wild beasts. The people of this country. She became it all. She was all of her golden, exalted ancestors in that one glimmering moment, and their knowledge was hers. She could even feel the currents of the Zora River miles away. She gave a high, giddy laugh as if she was drunk on the finest wine she had ever tasted.

"Zelda," the strange phantom murmured at her side, and she felt a callused palm graze hers. She knew the stories of all the scars she had seen those months ago. She knew every lick of the whippings and beatings he had endured, knew the agony of the Master Sword as it sliced through him time and again from the past and from the future.

"Ganondorf," she answered, knowing him once again as the man at side. The man who had returned to her and for her.

Her right hand reached out and the energy flew from her fingertips and coalesced into a bright, grand shape that took on the likeness of an odd and long-legged bird. It's sharp, hooked beak opened and a cry came out from its golden throat and rang in her ears like a bell tolling. It looked over its shoulder at her and fixed her with a quizzical stare.

_Command me_, it thought to her. Her eyes slid to the left in a thoughtful pause as time stood still for half a heartbeat. Another strange beast had formed by the bird side. It was larger than the other specter and darker. It seemed to eat the light around it as hungry, tendrils of black smoke curled from its roughly boar-shaped body. It lifted its huge head to reveal two sharp, black tusks sprouting from its jaw. Black ash blew from its nostrils as it let out a great huff of air in irritation. Impatience and irritation boiled in the air around them. _Get on with it_, the other spirit seemed to say.

She nodded and somehow knew that the Gerudo did the same beside her. _Fight with us_, she thought at them. _Save Hyrule_. The phoenix-like bird flapped its enormous wings and took flight, stirring the air around them into great gales. The boar stamped its smoking hoof and took off at a run, trampling everything in its path.

She watched in a dream-like state as the two tore out across the battlefield. Lightning struck the earth, gargantuan silver and gold forks that split the heavens as the sky darkened into night with heavy clouds looming on the horizon. Screams ripped through the world and died just as quickly as they had erupted to be replaced by more. The smells of burning flesh and blood assaulted her nose. She gagged and bile rose in her throat, but she barely noticed it. All she could feel was a frightening emotion of vengeful justice as men fell beneath her wings and stared in awe and terror as she hovered above them. They were intruders. They were interlopers and foreigners who did not belong here. Their blood was a stain upon the land. Their gods held no sway here no matter how they called out to them with their dying breaths. Their words were nothing.

She caught a mental glimpse of the dark beast crushing soldiers and horses and war machines under foot as it plowed through whatever stood in its way. The land burned beneath its cloven hooves and the rock sizzled and cracked from its weight and heat. Its tusks gored and impaled without thought, blood running slick down the exposed bone. She could feel the former Dark Lord in its thoughts, reading it as she read the bird's.

The Hylian soldiers looked on with sickened awe and glazed eyes as their jaws hung slack. Their shields hung loose on their arms and their swords were clutched in limp fingers as dark shadows were cast over them. For reasons they did not know, they were spared. The great bird took no interest in them and passed them by. The boar was less prejudiced and killed some unfortunate souls who stumbled in its path. Zelda even spied the Hero staring up into the sky in surprise and disbelief as he watched the spirit swoop over his head. He stood in a ring of dead bodies with the Master Sword dripping blood. His eyes were fierce and as dark a blue as thunder clouds. His own piece whispered softly and incessantly to theirs. It longed to join them, was jealous of their union. She could see the fury of his gaze even from afar. He was a simple man who did not appreciate such sorcery and gaudy displays of power. He did not understand it, and beneath all that, he felt cheated. His birth right and glory were stolen from him.

The tides changed as the Holodrummers gained their senses and started to flee in droves, heading for hills and valleys. Their generals did not bother to bark orders as they set their spurs to their horses sides and went into retreat themselves.

The spirits pursued them viciously. The bird circled high and swooped down, trailing a storm in its wake. The boar charged ahead and left streaks of fire across the earth where it passed. Magic spit and popped in the air around them as the two vengeful ghosts went after the fleeing army. She could feel their energy tugging and draining her own. Not even the blinding power of the Triforce could mask the fatigue that was starting to seep into her bones. They felt brittle as if they might splinter with the lightest touch. She could feel Ganondorf start to tire at her side.

She had to end this soon or else it would cost them both their lives. The magic would consume them like fire soaking up oil, and they would nothing but a black stain upon the earth when it was done. She drew in a deep breath through her nose and sent her consciousness racing outwards towards her avatar. The bird shifted its head slightly at her presence and allowed her to enter its mind. She saw through its eyes the wide swath of destruction they had cut. The land and trees were burning, smoke filling the air that would sting human eyes. She could clearly see that the enemy's army was fleeing, those who were not dying that was. Still, she knew that was not enough. Filepus would pursue them to the ends of the world until he had spent every life he could to claim her kingdom. As long as he breathed, there would be war.

The bird halted its attack for a few moments to glide across the battlefield in search of Filepus. Zelda used its keen eyes to try and spy out the king of Holodrum. As she had suspected, he had set himself far away from the front lines and yet close enough to monitor the action at hand.

"We need to find Filepus," she said to the man at her side.

"What should we do about them?" He jerked his chin towards the two spirits they had unleashed who were still wreaking havoc.

Zelda withdrew her consciousness from the bird's mind and returned to her body. She closed her eyes against the burning golden light and found the source of her power. "We send them away."

She called out the bird who cocked its head to the side in quizzical displeasure. It did not like being told what to do by something as small and trivial as her. She could feel the irritation building up inside of it. She pressed her will onto it until it submitted beneath the weight of both pieces. It bowed its head and flapped its wings in protest as its light faded and vanished altogether. The only signs it had ever existed were a smell of burning ozone and the evidence of the destruction it had brought.

The great boar went even less quietly. It gave long, frustrated cries as Ganondorf imposed his power upon it and forced it back into the realm it had come from. With a final stamp of its hooves, it vanished into a cloud of black smoke.

With the specters gone, she refocused her attention on finding Filepus. She remembered where his camp was located and honed in on it. She gave Ganondorf's hand a gentle squeeze as she shifted the air and particles around them to place them just outside of his tent. Then they went flying off into the wind like arrows fired from a bow.

They both rocked on the balls of their feet as the earth slammed into them. She was not used to teleporting such distances and not with another person to tow along with her. Her head was reeling and spinning from the ride. She pressed the heel of her hand to her temple to try and make everything stand still again. When the world slowed and came to a stop, she slowly let go of Ganondorf's hand.

The area was in complete disarray as soldiers ran trying to gather their saddles and supplies before fleeing. Most of them couldn't seem to decide whether to stay with their liege or run for their own lives. Several of them were standing there in shock at what had just happened. They did not even pay her any mind as she walked past them and entered into Filepus's tent.

He had his back to her but turned to face his visitor. His blue eyes wandered up and down her frame as if he had been expecting her all along. "What a pleasure for you to stop by," he said.

"The pleasure is all mine now," she responded with a tight smile, taking one menacing step towards him.

"How did you do it?" He picked a piece of lint off of his tunic, not bothering to acknowledge the threatening air around her.

"With the help of him." She nodded behind her as another figure entered the tent.

Filepus raised his eyes to the red robed man who stood beside Zelda. He raised both eyebrows at the idea that such a seemingly unintimidating being could turn the tide of battle. "Really? That old man beside you? He is your new pet charlatan magician?" His hand rested lightly on the pommel of the sword at his hip.

"I would be careful of how you speak to us," she cautioned.

"I will speak how I like to a woman and an old man." He rolled his eyes at her and shook his sword free of its holdings. "Let's get this over with quickly, Zelda. I have other matters to attend to. Who would you prefer for me to kill first? You or that old man standing beside you?"

"Neither," she said casually. She paused in thought and cast a knowing look back at the Gerudo. "And that is no old man beside me, or not just any old man."

The spell of his disguise dissolved around him as he soon as he let it go. The robes evaporated and were replaced by his normal clothes and the sickly gray shade of his skin turned to a dark bronze. He could feel his bones stretching out and groaning in relief at their freedom. His eyes flashed from black to gold.

For the first time, Filepus looked surprised and afraid. His sword hand gripped the hilt and drew it in one smooth stroke. He leveled a look at Zelda and then at Ganondorf. "What wicked sorcery is this? I saw him die. I watched at your little knight butchered him and left him to bleed out on the ground. I saw him draw his last breath as his heart stopped." His eyes were wide as his mind worked out a way for this to be possible.

"I did indeed die," Ganondorf rumbled, half laughing. "But this _woman_ brought this _old man_ back from the dead." He drew closer to them.

"I returned his life to him," Zelda said quietly, "and now I am ending yours."

Filepus looked from Ganondorf to Zelda and back again, his eyes growing so large that they showed the whites. He uttered a guttural sound as he swung his sword in a perfect deadly, arc straight for her exposed neck. Moving faster than Ganondorf had ever seen her move before, she ducked under the blade and pulled the knife from the small of her back out and planted it in Filepus's throat right as he was about to call for the guards.

"Gu-gu," he stuttered as the sword fell from his numb fingers and clattered to the ground. His legs went out from beneath him and his fingers grasped at the knife embedded in him. He sprawled out on his back with knees bent and his hand still curled around the small dagger.

Zelda stood over him wordlessly as he died and watched the light fade from his eyes just as Ganondorf's had on the day Link had killed him. When the last of his twitching subsided, she turned back to the Gerudo with eyes hollow from exhaustion and the impact of what she had just done.

"It's over," she said numbly and took a mechanical step forward like a child's wind-up toy.

"Yes, it is," he commented, eyes never leaving her form.

"I can't believe it," she said in a giddy voice that sounded like she was about to break out into tears and laughter at the same time.

"I can't quite either."

She took another stiff step and staggered. He caught her before she fell. Her arms shook as she clutched onto his for dear life. The color drained from her face and left it gray and haggard. All of her strength was gone.

"I'm glad you came back," she said sincerely as she let him take the full weight of her. He felt her heart beating like a hummingbird's wings on the inside of his skull as her body tried to cling to the last of its strength. The combination of the two pieces had sucked dry her reserves. She was not used to the full force of Power as he was. Wisdom was a quieter and more subtle beast by far.

"I am too," he whispered to her as he bent down and brushed his lips lightly against hers.

"I suppose that is the closest we will ever come to apologizing to each other?" she said in a weak and laughing voice.

"Consider it a miracle we even managed that small truce." His arms circled her and supported her weight against his chest.

She smiled up at him feebly before her eyes rolled back into her head, and she passed out.

He held her against him and felt her breath brushing his collarbone. She felt as small and fragile as a porcelain doll in his arms. He could have crushed her to dust in that moment. Already he was feeling the tenuous connection of the pieces starting to fade. Their power was dissipating inside of him. She was defenseless against him. He could take hers as she had taken his. Some dark, covetous part of him demanded that he do it. A vision of the demon he'd seen earlier came wavering before his eyes. It wanted Wisdom and Power and more. It wanted her life essence, her spirit inside of him. It wanted to consume her wholly. He swallowed and brushed the golden hair matted to her head with sweat. Its siren song was so sweet and tempting. How many times had he raged against her? How many times had he dreamed of revenge for what she had done to him?

Yet there was another part of him that was far quieter than the demon that said let this matter lie. Let it rest for now. It silently pleaded that he take this time and steal what joy from it that he could. It was frail and human, but its coaxing was so compelling. He blinked and watched the demon slowly fade away to lie hidden in his heart once more. _Another time_, the terrible being said as it went dormant.

He lifted her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. The disguise he had worn earlier wrapped itself around him, and his body shrunk to accommodate its dimensions.

"Come," he said to her silent form, "let's go back to your men and let them know that the war has just been won." His eyes closed, and he teleported them back to Zelda's tent.

He laid her out on her cot and took a seat on a nearby stool and waited for the Hero to show up.

**It's done. This chapter is finally done. I can't even believe it. I must have rewritten this thing a dozen times. It was just such a labor to write it. I'm sorry it took me so long. There is now only an epilogue left. I hope this lived up to your expectations. I feel like this chapter was pretty weak and incoherent, but at this point, it's hard for me to judge its quality.**

**Please let me know what you thought. **

**P.S. Forgive me for any spelling/grammatical mistakes. Hopefully, the epilogue will be up soon since it won't be nearly as long and I already know what I'm going to write. Thanks again so much for all of your support and patience.**


	11. Epilogue

Taming the Tiger Epilogue

Written to Sleeping Tune/Vineyard (The Vinegarden)

Ganondorf had his long legs stretched out in front of him when Link entered the tent with panic written all over his features. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the disguised Gerudo. His fingers wrapped tighter around that damned sword that he always carried. Didn't he ever sheathe the thing?

His eyes flashed from Ganondorf to Zelda's prone figure lying helplessly on the bed. Her face was gaunt and deathly and only her faint breathing gave away the fact that she was still in the world of the living. The Hero bared his teeth as he took a step towards his queen.

The former Dark Lord threw his hand out to stop him. "Don't wake her. She needs her rest."

He stopped mid-stride and gave his enemy a look that said he didn't quite believe him. "She does not look as if she is sleeping. How do I know you didn't kill her?"

The larger man rolled his eyes and took a small looking glass from the table nearby and held it close to her slightly parted lips. The glass fogged over with her breath. "See? She still lives."

Link relaxed visibly and allowed the tip of his sword to graze the ground. "So why are you here?"

"To watch over her." He turned his gaze from the boy to the delicate figure lying on the mattress beside him. He wanted to press his hand to her forehead to see if she was warm enough but dared not do it in front of the Hylian. The action would most likely cause the young man to have a fit of some sort, and he did not feel like dealing with that at the moment.

"That won't be necessary," Link said with a forced calmness that did little to cover his animosity towards the bearer of Power. "I'm here now. I'll take care of her."

"No, you won't," Ganondorf responded wearily. "You're going to tell those men out there that the war is won if they haven't figured it out by now. Filepus is dead."

The knight swallowed loudly at the news. "How?"

"She killed him. Put a knife in his throat." His lips curled in appreciation as he replayed the scene over in his mind.

The boy blinked in disbelief. Ganondorf knew he could never picture his beloved queen doing anything so barbaric. "What was that out there? How did you do that? I saw your magic in the last war, and it was nothing like that."

The Gerudo lifted his broad shoulders in a careless shrug. "It does not matter now. She and I did it together, and the likes of that will most likely never happen again."

"It had something to do with the Triforce, didn't it?"

"Of course," he answered tiredly. Really, the boy could be so dense sometimes. It shamed him to think he had ever been bested by someone so thick-headed. "Now go perform your royal duty, and inform everyone that this ordeal is done."

Link narrowed blue eyes in anger and started to protest but stopped as good sense took hold of him for once. "If you hurt her. . . " he threatened as he backed out of the tent.

Ganondorf only gave him a disgusted sneer and a wave of his large hand in answer.

That night word spread through the camp like wildfire as the story leapt from one mouth to another always growing greater and grander than the previous telling. The queen didn't simply plant a knife in his throat. Oh no, she decapitated him. They had a long and bloody battle that was so fierce sparks flew from their swords though they didn't know how she had come by these newly possessed skills. Then there was that strange mage who had appeared in a whirlwind with billowing thunderclouds that spewed out lighting and hail as it swirled across the valley. On and on the story grew beyond the boundaries of truth into the realm of fantasy and myth.

Ganondorf heard the rumors and retellings of it flying outside the tent as he sat by Zelda's side. She laid there wane and immobile, only occasionally moving a limb and mumbling under her breath. She did not even stir when a cry went up across the whole valley, so loud and fierce Ganondorf swore the Goddesses could hear it in the heavens. Then the drinking and singing and dancing started and that did not wake her either.

The Gerudo began to grow worried. He feared that the Triforce had taken her wits from her and that she might never truly awaken. His hand found hers and held it tenderly for a moment. He withdrew it as he felt himself start to nod off. Eyelids growing heavy, he allowed sleep to take him.

A rustling of sheets awoke him, and he jerked with a start, eyes growing wide to see what had disturbed him. Zelda was sitting up in bed with the golden light of late morning falling over her hair and making it gleam. Some pink had returned to her cheeks as well. Her hands came up to wipe the sleep from her eyes and stretch out over her head. She yawned and looked at him bleary-eyed.

"How long have I been a sleep?

"A while."

She looked around herself and scratched her head. "What did I miss?"

"Everything," he answered, relief flooding his voice at seeing her awake and alert.

* * *

Zelda took a deep breath and set her crown on her brow. The jewels in their mountings caught the light and gleamed like stars as she tilted her head from side to side to examine it in the mirror in front of her. "Are you sure you want to do this?" she inquired, glancing at his reflection.

"For the fourth time, yes. I am sure," he said irritably as he squirmed in the itchy red robes he wore.

"Alright, " she said as she turned to face him, "I just want to be sure you're certain of your decision. If you are going to back out now is the time."

"No, if I was going to back out I should never have come back."

She stepped towards him and adjusted his robes so that the Sheikah eye could be seen better. Her hands reached up and straightened the cap on his head and the veil in front of his face.

"You're worse than my sisters," Ganondorf breathed, grabbing her wrists and restraining them from rearranging his clothing any more.

"I'm sorry." The queen glanced down at her feet and then back up at him meaningfully. "I just want you to know what you're getting yourself into. You can't do this and then change your mind."

"I know that." He let go of her.

She rested her hands on his shoulders. "I will never be able to bear you children. You will have no sons or daughters. We will never even be able to be together publically, and you will have to wear this disguise for the rest of your life." Her eyes grew large and sober as she spoke, and he knew that the words hurt her to say them. They were the truth though. Everything she said was absolutely and terribly true.

"I know," he said softly, trying not to let anger tinge his voice. It was hard not to let it. It was not her fault that things were the way they were, or at least not entirely her fault. He was as much to blame for it as she was, and that only made him madder. Rage and fury had always been his first line of defense when something wounded him. It was better than helpless sadness.

"And one day, I may have to marry and have children. Can you accept that?" She choked on those last words and tears threatened to fall. The bearer of Wisdom cleared her throat and turned to quickly wipe them away with the sleeve of her dress.

"I can." The former Dark Lord forced his voice to remain steady and strong. He hated the thought of it, but that was the reality of their situation. If he wanted her at all those were the terms they would have to live by. "Can you though?"

"I can if you can," she said with an impish smile, trying to lighten the mood. "And you promise not to try and kill Link again?"

"You ask much of me, milady. That I cannot guarantee." The little bastard was still a thorn in his side with every side-long glance and snide remark. He did not see that relationship improving anytime soon.

"Just try," she commanded impatiently as she smoothed her hands over the front of her skirt.

"I will try." He bowed his head towards her, which was not such a great distance in his current body.

"I suppose that will have to do for now." The queen inspected herself one last time in the mirror and held her hand out for him. "Now let's get this over with, shall we?"

"That sounds like an excellent plan." He offered her his arm, and she slid her hand over the crook of his elbow.

Together they walked out of her chambers and down the hall. The guards fell in behind them, never any wiser that they were guarding a man they'd have once gladly killed. The irony of it did not escape him as he suppressed a thousand quips and barbs that came to mind.

They made their way to the great hall where the Council and nobles had gathered to witness her first true speech since the end of the war. Everyone was still working hard to get everything back to normal, but this was something they had insisted upon. They just had to see this odd new figure who had appeared out of thin air at the last moment.

When they stood outside the huge double oak doors, Zelda gave his arm a firm squeeze and a glance to make sure his resolve was holding. He nodded slightly, and they waited as the doors were pulled open from the inside.

A crier called out Zelda's arrival as Ganondorf's eyes drank in the sight before him. Light was pouring through the stained-glass windows and threw rainbows of color across the tapestries and long table. They depicted sages of the past and the creation of Hyrule by the Goddesses. All of the figures seemed to eye him hatefully as he walked underneath their stern gazes towards the dais at the end. He returned their cold stares right back, daring one of the celestial powers that be to strike him down. The queen paced slowly beside him as they passed by the courtiers who gawked and craned their necks for a better look at the mysterious sorcerer. The sight of them disgusted him as he observed their fine clothes and soft hands. He had seen not a one of them out on the battlefield that day, and it seemed as if any weight they had lost due to the shortage of food had quickly been gained back.

He turned his head forward as they drew close to the end of the hall where Zelda's throne sat and a seat for him had been placed to the right of the large chair. She let her hand slip free of his arm and ascended the steps by herself to stand before her court. He waited in front of the long table that seated all of them. There had not been enough fine furniture left to seat them all according to their respective stations. The thought pleased him to no end.

She stood with her back straight and her shoulders thrown back defiantly as her violet eyes swept over the whole room, judging and condemning in that one gaze. Link stood to her left just out of direct eyesight. The Gerudo and Hero glared at each other, neither backing down. Ganondorf felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck from the pressure building in the room. Their pieces were reacting to their emotions. A stern glance at both of them from Zelda quelled it and put an end to the silent confrontation.

"Dear Council and gentle friends," she started, "I thank you for your attendance. I know that things are still being set aright, and I appreciate the tremendous effort and aid you are giving during these difficult times. The war, though brief as it was, exacted a terrible toll on our beautiful Hyrule. The price would have been even higher had it not been for Hyrule's greatest knight, Sir Link of Ordon."

Applause went up as the boy stepped forward and bowed his head sheepishly, cheeks going bright red in embarrassment. His eyes went to the queen in a silent plea to let him sink back into the background. She gave him a gentle smile and silently dismissed him. He stepped backwards away from the curious eyes of the gentry.

"However, even Sir Link's valiant deeds and work were not enough to win the war for us. We were sorely outnumbered, and I will not lie, our supplies were running short. Our soldiers fought on courageously no matter what was asked of them. They were willing to fight and die for their country, and they made me proud to be Hylian. Still, it was not enough. Things were looking dire on that day those few weeks ago. It seemed as if all was lost despite all our struggle and bravery. I feared the worst."

She paused for dramatic effect, and Ganondorf saw his cue. He climbed the steps to stand by her side.

"Then this man beside me showed up." She placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a look so full of admiration and hero-worship that it took everything in him not to burst out cackling. He could clearly read through the charade she was putting on. She would sooner spit at him than look at him like that. Still, it amused him beyond measure to see these fools lap it up.

"He came from out of nowhere as the stories tell. He came to me in a cloud of smoke, and at first I was afraid of this apparition before me. His powers and magic were unlike any I had encountered before. Despite my initial fear of him, I knew from the marking on his robes that he was a member of the long-lost Sheikah tribe who were the ancient protectors of my house from days long gone by. He had been sent by the Goddesses to assure my safety and Hyrule's." Her voice rang out clear and true, and every face was turned towards her in utter rapture as if she were some siren singing to men lost at sea. Of course, the Hylians would believe any explanation that involved them being divinely favored by the Goddesses. They already thought themselves the chosen children of the deities. Why should they not intervene to ensure that their favorite race was protected? The thought turned his stomach, but for once, their arrogance played to his advantage.

"And then . . .then he summoned forth the Guardians of Light, the spirits of old who once guarded this land against evil. A great bird and a great boar he brought forth from the earth, and they crushed the Holodrummers underfoot like ants." She clenched her fist in front of her for emphasis. "Our enemies scattered before them like leaves in the wind, and finally, he took me to face that villain Filepus. He instilled in me the strength and skill to finish the king of Holodrum. He blessed my hand with the speed necessary to make an end of that terrible man and the awful war he caused."

_No, Zelda,_ he thought admirably, _I had no part in that. You did that all on your own. _He felt the strangest sense of pride watching her stand there in front of all of these men who had doubted her rule as a young woman. Why he felt it he did not know, but he did. He had never been the kind to be able to empathize with others or feel affection so easily. She was stronger than he had given her credit for.

"It is because of this man," she took his hand in hers and lifted them into the air, "that Hyrule still stands. It is because of this man that our beloved homeland is safe once more and her people at peace. I present to the Council and Court the Sheikah mage, Agahnim, savior of the Kingdom and my new High Chancellor."

He watched paralyzed and wide-eyed as the fools actually clapped for him. They got to their feet and applauded him even more loudly than they had for the Hero. His body went rigid from the shock of it. He could not have spoken if he wanted to, and he was grateful for the feel of Zelda's hand around his and her beaming smile. He was standing before the Hylian court, and they were cheering for him. He was standing beside the Hylian queen as her most trusted advisor. He, Ganon Mandrag the Scourge of Hyrule, was standing in Hyrule Castle as neither her conqueror nor in chains. It was surreal. It was foreign and alien, and it felt wrong. Yes, it felt wrong. He had dreamed of this moment so differently that he could not fathom it any other way. His palms grew slick with sweat.

The queen let his hand go, and he made his way to the stool at her right. She took a seat and began to speak of matters of state. Ganondorf tried to listen as best he could, but he could only stare at her in wonderment with a foreboding feeling settling in his stomach. This was not what he had wanted. He would have never imagined this in a thousand years, but here he was seated beside the queen of Hyrule as her ally.

She was beautiful as she composed her regal features and spoke in that cold, detached voice that he had once so hated. She was magnificent in her element. He blinked and felt sick as that dark part of himself that he had glimpsed during their joining reared up inside of him. The demon-lord burned in the back of his brain. It laughed as he looked upon her. It craved her still. Its lust for her essence and abilities had only grown and nothing but her would slake the thirst. It demanded that he do as it wished. It screamed in his blood and mind to take what was hers and make it his, and the want for it only increased when he looked at the boy standing there guarding her. The wildness of it scared Ganondorf and intoxicated him. The allure of it was overwhelming.

He looked at her again and listened to her voice. He watched her as she leaned back in her chair with her golden hair falling over her white shoulders and framing that beautiful face carved of ivory and starlight. The demon calmed as he studied Zelda. His voice faded, and the madness lessened though it remained to pulse faintly in his veins. He could feel himself regaining control as she gave him a small, secret smile. She was his, and that was enough at the time being. It had to be.

That night Ganondorf snuck into her chambers under a cloak of shadows and the sleep that lay heavily upon the castle. She greeted him without startling, expecting him to come. Zelda only seemed mildly annoyed that he had waited so long.

She looped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss as they fell back onto the bed together. Their clothes were swiftly shed and flung into a pile in a corner of the room. Their limbs tangled together, and their bodies moved in unison with her nails digging into his back until they were both spent and tired. Sleep dragged her under shortly after as she nestled her head against his chest and breathed softly against his skin.

He stared up into the darkness as he let his fingers trail down her naked back. His eyes found her face and were able to only trace the outline of her features. He could do this for a little while, for her, for _this_ Zelda he could play this game and live this lie. _But not forever_, the demon said ominously in the back of his mind. And he knew then that it spoke the truth. The Gerudo could do this and endure this for this lifetime, but not forever.

**It's through. It took me two years to write, but it's done. FINALLY. **

**This is likely to be the happiest ending you're ever going to get out of me for this pairing. I just can't ever picture it ending well for them. Things will always revert back to their natural state in the end. **

**Something that I learned in writing this is the usefulness of outlines. I really should have done that more with this story and that's a good bit of the reason why updates were so spaced out. With The Bright Side of Darkness, the story line was so straightforward that I knew exactly how things were going to play out in my head. Taming the Tiger was much more problematic in that way since I didn't know exactly where I was going with this. However, I still feel like Taming the Tiger was an improvement over the BSoD. I like to think that my characterization of Zelda was more even handed and plausible. It's still very flawed and needs improvement. **

**Anyways, thanks for sticking with me for so long. I truly am grateful, and I appreciate everyone who has read this and reviewed it. I couldn't have done it without you guys. **** I hope you enjoyed the ride. I know I did even though it was frustrating at times. **

**I think from now on I might just stick with one-shots, lol. I doubt it though since my one-shots always turn into full-blown stories.**


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